A Beautiful Little Lie
by TigerLilly1995
Summary: When I'm calling, save me. When I'm falling, catch me. Be there for me; hold me in the night, when the monsters behind my eyes and the demons in my dream are trying to take me. You help me see, teach me to live. You give me all I never thought I could have. I love you not just for who you are, but for the person you bring out in me; the person I thought had died.
1. SummaryPrologue

**AN: ok so, this is a summary/prologue. Read it, see if it's something you would want to see. The story – if I will continue – will be taking place in the second movie and beyond. I don't own transformers, only my OC, Cassandra.**

You all remember Tony Stark, right? Well… my father puts him to shame. I honestly don't think there is another way to put it. Rich and genius doesn't even begin to cover it. You think Stark's gadgets are cool? My father's are real, not CGI. You think Stark's house is awesome? My father has three of each. Why? Because the very character was based off of him. Only… you know… half as smart.

I – being his daughter… the only one he takes responsibility for creating; the others he denies – have, well… you name it, I have it. I change cars four times a year. I never wear the same thing twice. I have every electronic gadget you have and have _not_ heard of and probably won't for another five years because it's like some shit from the future.

Why father and not dad? Well because that's all he is to me – and a private bank with several billion to my name; ya, that's right, I'm in the billions now. I was never his child as much as a decoration, a trophy; something to show off to his 'friends'. And then when he is done showing me off, he pushes me into the background and showers me with money and super cool shit to make up for the lost time. He only remembers I exist when he needs to show me off to the crowd. Other times, I walk into the kitchen, and he asks who the hell I am and I have three seconds to tell him what I'm doing in his house before he calls the police and has me locked up for the rest of my life. Yup, it's nice to be loved. I guess I'm what you would call a spoiled blond… until you get to know me.

Am I rich? Above and beyond. Am I a bitch? No, never was – although I have a thing for getting people to do my work for me; I've learned a long time ago that the only way to win is to cheat and lie, and I've become a professional at that. Am I used and thrown away when my own father ceases to have use for me? Yes, constantly. Do I ever complain? Aw _hell_ no! Sorry, but I like having a holographic mirror the projects me in different clothing every time I say 'next', a bed that adjusts its temperature according to the temperature in the room, outside, and my personal body heat, and a refrigerator that tells me what diet I should maintain based on my health condition, and MIA. For those of you who don't know, think JARVIS of Iron Man, only smarter, more advanced, and a girl. Oh yes, I have everything: my own helicopter, my own airplane, my own… well, everything; I have too much to even name.

Everything is perfect… with this one tiny little setback: father's clients. Well… let's just say they aren't your ordinary company owners. They're… _different_ for the lack of a better term. They can be very harsh, rash, incoherent, mean, impulsive, violent, and creepy. But most of all, they're total control freaks who are set upon domination of every living being. Ya, total freaks. And still, I never complain; I mean… I'm used to it. They've been around my entire life; they've always been a part of it.

Now, what do I mean by 'different'? Well… they aren't exactly humans.


	2. Chapter 1: Introductions

**AN: I Own nothing but the OC, and I swear that future chapters will be longer.**

My room bursts into song, effectively waking me up – as it does every morning. I let out a huge yawn, reaching up in an awkward-looking stretch, and make a strange groaning noise in the back of my throat. Strange way to wake up? Yeah, but what can I say.

"Alright MIA, I'm up already."

"Good morning, Cassie, it's good to hear you again," my room answers in a mechanical but feminine voice.

"Yeah same. You know my morning procedure."

"Starting your shower. Would you like something special for breakfast?"

"No, just still with the ordinary, thanks." I get up, stretching awkwardly again, and walk to the bathroom. The door opens and hot air and the sound of running water greats me as it does every morning. I get out of my pajamas and step into my shower. When I'm done, a new set of home clothes is waiting for me. I get dressed and MIA instant-dries my hair – it's like this current thing that runs through your hair and dries it instantly. I go downstairs to my dining room where a steaming plate of omelet, toast, salad, and orange juice is waiting for me. I sit down on the stool and begin to eat, already planning my week – yeah, it's Monday, sucks right?

"Cassie, you have a visitor," MIA tells me, and a screen appears in front of my face. Lord, shoot me now. I groan in frustration, slamming my hand on the table hard.

"Let her in, before she overrides your system and screws you up again," I say, glaring at the insufferable blond on the screen. With my appetite gone, I get up, leaving the cleaning for the drones, and walk up to the fridge. I open it, taking a Hershey's – my favorite chocolate bar… right next to the Kit Kat. I bite my lip and close the door, turning to the 'girl' standing on the other side of it.

"What do you want?" I ask, irritated. It's only seven fifteen, and she's already ruining my day!

"Is that any way to greet a friend?" she asks in mock hurt.

"Alice, get it through your thick helm: We. _Are not_. Friends. You are a burden that I have to deal with, so go harass some frat boy. Now, if you will, I have to go prepare for school so get your _human_ ass out of my house," I snarl, emphasizing 'human' to make a point that it's the only other thing she could be: the thing she hates most.

"But I'm _bored_," she complains in her nasty, creepy, sexy voice, making her sound like she's a whore, desperate for sex. Then again… "I want to play."

"Well, sorry, but I don't feel like having you send my ass flying across the football field again."

"Ok well, we don't have to play; we can go do that thing girls are all so found of: shopping. Come on, I need someone to tell me how nice this hideous form looks.

"If you need an ego boost, go seduce some poor guy and then eat him or whatever the hell you do after you get laid." I quipped with an insincere smile. "Alice, I'll go shopping with you when hell freezes over. I told you: Get. _Out_."

"I'll get you a manual Holo-emitter so you can skip class and no one will know," she states. Bribing. Bribing, cheating, and lying. That's what they taught me; that's what I do best. Bribe, cheat, and lie; I'm the best at that. I can spin lies better than I can count to ten. Finding loopholes is second nature for me. I'm a professional. But I can't beat Alice at her own game. Lies are what she is. Lying and creating illusions is her field. She can get any information you can think of out of a human without even violence. But of course, she doesn't prefer to do it that way.

"No," I say, "I'd rather have perfect attendance for the rest of my life." And with that, I turn to leave. Alice, however, is quick to block me, a bloodthirsty and furious look in her eyes. She grabs my wrist painfully – but not enough to bruise me; never enough to bruise, that's their order. Well what can I say; Starscream likes me better than he does her. Then again, it probably has something to do with the fact that I'm not eighteen quiet yet. So that will fade on the day of my birthday. He calls me a Sparkling, and apparently, he isn't as found of killing children as he lets on, even if those children are human like me.

That doesn't mean her hold doesn't hurt though. It does, like hell. She knows where the sensitive spots are. God I hate pressure points, especially when she knows them.

"What do you want?" I hiss at her through grit teeth, wanting nothing more than to spit in that human face of hers. "I did what you asked, I befriended that Sam kid and his sex symbol of a girlfriend, I got you info on the Autobots, I got on their good side, and got them to trust me and be much more open and easy-going with me, what more do you want? I was your little spy for two godforsaken years, what do you need now?"

"I told you, I'm bored, I want to play." And the next thing I know, I'm flying across the room. The air is painfully knocked out of me and a skid across the floor, hitting the walk.

I remember how to breathe, and the first thing to come out of my mouth is "You little _bitch_. MIA!"

"I'm sorry, my system is overridden."

"Fuck this. Call Arthur!" I order as Alice appears overtop me with her metal imitation of hair flowing every which way, defying the laws of gravity entirely. She pins me down as I try – and miserably fail – to wiggle from underneath her.

"Get off of me, you human whore!" I shout, striking where it hurts. She hates her organic alt. form more than anything else in the universe. In fact, she hates it more than she does the Autobots. But unfortunately for her, she's stuck as a pretender.

"What did you just call me?" she snarls in fury.

"Human whore," I spit back. She looks like she's about to strike, and I gather all the spit I have in my mouth.

"Alice! Get off her!" I hear Arthur order. Alice turns to the voice in an animating way, like a predator spotting better prey, an angry snarl emerging from her throat, like an animal, interrupted during feeding. She looks between us a few times before reluctantly getting off and I smirk in victory. "What's going on here? Alice, what is the meaning of this?"

"It's ok," I say, "She was just training me to deflect an attack better. As you can see, I have _a lot_ to learn."

"Are you sure you're ok?" he asks, pretending to care for my well being… and failing miserably.

"Yeah, I'm sure, go daddy, you're a busy man, I can't have you distracted," I say sweetly. He leaves without saying a single word, and the moment I'm out of earshot, I turn to a human Alice and shudder.

"_Daddy_?"

"Don't even remind me. It felt like swallowing a razor sharp serrated knife." And with that, we burst out laughing. "Did-haha-did you hear him-hahaha! 'Are you sure you're ok?-hahaha!" I get out through laughing.

"_Daddy_-hahaha! _Megatron_ pays more attention to me-haha-and that's even considering that he's _dead_-hahaha!" I bent over forwards, clutching my stomach as I laugh. _Daddy_. The guy never did a single thing to deserve being called that. And how he pretended to sound concerned *mental hysterical laughter*. He doesn't care about me as a daughter; he cares about me as a trophy.

"So what's the deal anyway," I say, stifling the remainder of my laugh.

"That Wkiklity human is going to… well some form of school, you know. Anyway, _I_ have to go there and get him. Argh! I'd rather walk around in this disgusting form for an Earth week strait. Speaking of… 'human whore'? Ouch, that hurt. You're learning fast, I'm proud."

"Flattered. Oh and… when you go, try for a different organic alt. form. Go for somethin along the lines of Clair Holts, at least then, you won't look like you want to mouth-rape everyone you make eye contact with. You'd look more innocent… it'll make the job easier."

"Well, well," she says seductively, "Look who's been paying attention."

"Well I did have the best of teachers. So… what do you want… again."

"I want you to come with me."

"_What_? I'm only midway through grade twelve! Argh! What idiot starts college in the second semester anyway?"

"Cassandra, I'm not asking you, I'm telling you: come with me. I won't last two weeks there without drawing attention by killing someone, and then Starscream will be 'up my ass' as you humans say." Well, if she's 'telling' me…

"I'm going to need that manual Holo-emitter. I can't skip class for… however long. Make it quick. Now is that all?"

"I'm bored."

"Cool, I don't give a fuck. Go entertain yourself elsewhere, _I_ have work to do… you know, like oh say… go be your little pet spy and hang at the Wikliky place all the time. _Leave_. Right now." And with that, I go upstairs, back to my room.

**AN: so what do you think? Is it good? I hope so because I like the story and I want to continue it. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it… and I have nothing else important to say so see you next time.**


	3. Chapter 2: strange rock and an Autobot

I park my new, silver Lotus Evora across the street from Sam's house. In all honesty, I didn't not like him, I actually did like him. But I had to remain indifferent to all of them. Starscream had the Decepticons constantly watching me. One wrong move and I wouldn't be his favorite pet anymore. And I know it sounded sad, but I kinda liked staying on his good side. At least he treated me with some degree of consideration to my personal opinion and didn't kill me every time he was pissed. So I guess staying on their good side was my ticket to life. Bad side equals very not good.

My personal feelings would only get in the way of me doing my job properly, and if I was given a task, I never let anyone down. So when I was told to befriend Sam and get close to the Autobots, even if I 'didn't' know'. I was supposed to gather as much information as possible. And although I didn't always like telling them everything – I did after all, become friends with him for real – I still did. I sometime felt like I was betraying him, and I guess I was. No, I was _definitely_ betraying him; over and over and over again. But feelings didn't ever matter. I was a trained spy, liar, and thief; when I was told to do something, I did it, no matter what I thought or felt about it. I would do and say anything to stay trusted and if I felt like I was being suspected, I fixed the problem, at any price.

I take a breath, getting into character, and get out.

"Hey Abby," Ron says, waving at me, "You here to help Sam finish packing and help us kick him out?" he jokes and I nod in a joking reply. Abigail Spencer, the fake ID I have created. And Abby is a girl who is visiting her uncle in Tranquility – what a terrible name of a town *shudder*. Abby likes art, gossip, and M&M's – god I fucking hate them, but since Abby loves them, I always have them when I come over.

I've been Abby for two years, and for the second one, I've been friends with Sam – as in… for real. I found myself taking a liking to the guy about a year after meeting him, and the friendship became real – thankfully, I've managed to keep that part a secret. How? Simple: I go home and forget all about him.

And now it's Wednesday, and I'm ready to 'see him off' and follow him. I've worked out how I was going to do that: I'll stay with Mikaela, and then the next day someone – Some Decepticon drone – will come snooping around and we will be forced to go find Sam. Simple as that. And I will have the perfect excuse to be there. I'll be the good friend, and want to help Sam. I'll of course have to freak out a bit, but then I'll get Mikaela to explain everything to me, and be the good friend, and go with her. It was so simple to come up with it's not even fun at all.

"Yeah!" I call back.

"Sam's inside," Ron tells me, pointing a finger back to the house.

"Thanks," I say with a smile and jog inside. And then I wish I hadn't.

"Look what I found, Abby," Judy wails excitedly, holding Sam in a hug, and holding up a pair of tiny little white shoes. "It's Sam's baby booties!" Sam stiffens in discomfort at the realization that I'm here, and his mom is being _very_ embarrassing. I bite down on my lip extra hard to keep from laughing. Ron walks in, looking over the scene for a moment as Sam regains himself, mumbling something.

"Yeah, college, bummer," Ron says.

"You have to come home very holiday," Judy says, looking Sam in the eye. Sam looks like he really wants to get out of there, but at the same time, he can't bring himself to hurt his mom's feelings. I feel a very familiar emotion creep into my heat: jealousy. _His_ parents care. He has friends, a home… family. He has a girlfriend and a semi-normal life. I never had any of that. Then again, I totally have a shit-load of things he can't even dream of so that not just evens it out, but gives me a hell of a lot of extra points. Who needs parents when all they do is embarrass you and get you into trouble. At least with me, I know for sure that this scene will never happen to me.

"Not just big ones; you… have to… for Halloween…"

"I can't come home for Halloween, mom," Sam says, sounding like a parent telling their kid that Santa isn't coming this year.

"Then we'll come to you," Jody says through her tears. Oh god, I really don't want to be in Sam's place right now. Poor Sam; I feel sorry for him. They continue their little argument, going back and forth. I need to pee. I go to the bathroom, and the moment the door closes behind me, I get a call.

"Yes," I say, answering my phone.

"Everything going according to plan?" Alice asks me. The line is secure… it better be, otherwise I'll kill her.

"Yes, it's all cool. He's going to college, everything is on schedule. How's it going back there? I heard you folks made a mess in Shanghai. Did you get the Allspark co-ordinates?'

"Mind your business. Shut up and stop asking me useless questions. Focus," she snarls. I know it's stupid, but I can't help feel a little hurt. They didn't bother ever hiding that they aren't the good guys or their dislike for us humans, but I have been getting along with Alice better than most of the rest of them. Con or not, it doesn't change the fact that she's a girl; she has her own way of thinking. I felt like maybe one day, we wouldn't have to hate each other so much. But time and time again, she proves me wrong. One moment we're playing and having a good time, and the next, she's dead serious about hurting me, just like the rest of them.

"I _am_ focused."

"Good." And with that, she hangs up. I changed my mind; I don't need to pee anymore. I flush, and turn the tap on, running my hands under the water before leaving the bathroom. You know what? Screw her; she can be a bitch all she wants. I have Sam and Mikeala and... I'm hungry. I go to the kitchen, grabbing an apple from the island, and bite in. Pft, don't hate each other. That's dumb. She's a Decepticon, and it doesn't matter how I feel. I need to concentrate on what I need to do. I can play make believe later, when I have free time on my hands. Don't hate. Cassie, don't be stupid. You have more than enough. You have MIA… god I miss MIA. *sigh*. Oh well, I'm only stuck here for until tomorrow, and then a quick trip across the country, and done. Then I can go back home and get Arthur to by me a helicopter and race across the North American contine-wow that the hell?!

I jump three feet in the air when I hear something land behind me. I whip around, ready to defend myself. But I find nothing but a rock. Wait… a rock? Where the hell did it come from? I glance up to see… a whole in the ceiling? What? I glance back down to the rock… what are those? I reach for it, but then jump back as it flashes. The entire kitchen starts shaking… and then everything jumps up, becoming creepy looking robots. It's actually a little amusing, to watch them try to figure everything out. I grab the rock, putting it into an inside pocket of my jeans – argh, Abby has a terrible taste.

That makes me remember that I'm Abby and I start screaming.

"SAM! You have something in your kitchen!" I scream in a terrified tone, running up the stairs to his room. As I do so, it's hard to keep my smile off of my face. This is actually kind of funny. I run upstairs, breaking through the door. "SAM! Sam you have something in your kitchen! We have to run!"

"Abby? What?"

"There!" I scream, frantically pointing to the door. It opens, and the little robots are there.

"AHHH!" wow, wow, wow. Dude screams more like a girl than I do… and I _am_ a girl! "Get out of here! Run!" Sam screams. I look around, finding a closed window and run to it. Acting on training rather than common sense, I climb up on the bedside table and kick it open, jumping out onto the canopy. Sam is right behind me, screaming as well. Still in self defense mode, I jump from the canopy, rolling over forward to ease the fall, and run to the first thing I see that will provide some form of cover – a fountain. Before I know it, Sam and Ron are on either side of me, freaking out.

"What was that?!" Ron shouts covering his head.

"The whole kitchen!" Sam shouts back. "BUMBLEBEE!" Sam screams. Oh shit. No, nonononono, hell no! I cover my head, freaking out.

"Ohmygod! Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod! I don't wanna die!" I scream, shaking in fear. Damn it! Abby is such a crybaby and sap!

Sam's car comes driving right through the garage – good thing we're in the backyard – transforming. I don't see him entirely, but I do get a glimpse. And all I can say is: wow. I'd never seen an Autobot before. I only heard about them… a lot… and not a single good thing. I know a little about each one; just what I need. But the Cons have never hidden their hatred towards them. I was never on the 'need to know' list. I only knew what I overheard or what I was allowed to know. I never asked questions out of turn or made unnecessary comments. If they talk to you, then you answer, if not, then you keep your yap shut; otherwise there will be consequences and you really don't want to have to deal with an angry Decepticon. Again, it wasn't like I could ever complain; if I did what I was told, they'd just give me some new cool gadget. Frenzy – before he got himself killed – taught me how to hack anything with any amount or intensity of firewalls without being detected or how to make a copy of something without being traced. Within five years of threats and consequences, he turned me into one of the best – and youngest at that – hackers in the world. His partner, Barricade… well, he wasn't so found of the idea. But Frenzy didn't mind me too much, so as long as he taught me to deal with computers, I didn't give a shit about what the others might say or like.

I cover my head and scream as Sam's car, Bumblebee – damn his name is a mouthful, I'll stick with something shorter, like 'Bee' – starts shooting at everything non-organic that is moving before I hear an explosion followed by the smell of burning wood and fabric. Figures, Bee just shot the house, and since most of the newborn robots were in Sam's room, I take it he won't be coming home for a visit in a while – goodbye Sam's room; you served your purpose well, but you are of no use to us anymore. Now I'm quoting the Cons… I need a life… and some new clothes; these are all dirty and shit.

Everyone is freaking out. Sam is… scolding Bee? Why is Sam getting mad at Bee? Bee just kinda saved us. On top of that, wasn't Sam the one who called him? So why is he shouting at his guardian? I scream and cry, going on and on nonstop about how I'm too young to die and how I still want to live and go to college and graduate and blah, blah, blah. Abby really needs to pull her shit together, she's such a wimp! But sadly, it's all I can do for now. I messed up there a little with the whole 'ninja jumping off the canopy' thing, and I need to fix that. And hey, this totally works in my favor! Now it'll be so much easier for them to explain everything.

.O.o.O.o.O.

"Hold on Sam, you're telling me your car is actually an alien in disguise? And for two frikin years?"

"Abby, SHHH! National security!" Sam whisper shouts at me.

"Whatever. Ok so, you know I'm a sucker for cool shit and this is like… I Robot only a bazillions times cooler… and you didn't tell me? I thought we were friends," I say, offended.

"We _are_. And I wanted to tell you, really, but I wasn't aloud. This is on a government level. I can't go around telling everyone; I'll go to jail for treason or something!"

"Whatever. I'm not 'everyone' I'm Abby, your friend, and you're Sam, _my_ friend. And I take it Kea was in on it, wasn't she? Sam, I've known you for two years, I thought you trusted me enough to tell me. I guess I overestimated my place in your life," I say. Cheesy? Yes. Over-dramatic? Yes. Effective? _Definitely_. "Whatever, I know now. Oh, oh, oh! Can I see it? Pleeeaaase! Just once! I mean, it's so cool! It's like Terminator, only better! Oh and a lot more advanced, since… you know… Terminator can't become a hot car." Sam sighs, then his expression changes. I turn around to see a concerned Kea in a hot biker outfit.

"I can't believe you knew your boyfriend's car is a makeshift alien and you didn't tell me!" I complain, and then clap my hands over my mouth at the volume. Kea gives me an apologetic look and says something to Sam. I want to see the Autobot. I'd never seen one before. You'd think living in a house stocked with robots I'd know something about the Bots, but I know very little. I was only given names and some basic info. Like Bee is Sam's guardian, Ironhide – or Hide as I call him – is a walking arsenal, Ratchet – or Ratch – is a medic/mechanic and so on. Oh and then of course there is Optimus. And I actually heard quite a handful of him. He's their leader and I have to be extra careful around him. He's ruthless and impulsive. He's even more temperamental than Cade! I was told to stay as far away from him as possible; that no matter what I do, he will never trust me in the least, so I can't let him see me, ever.

I never saw him, but I had three close calls. Luckily, I trained with Alice, and Cade – there were a few others, but it was mainly those two – and now I'm like a frikin ninja.

I carefully listen to Sam and Kea's conversation, hearing them talk about a cube sliver. Cube sliver? Do they mean the rock? The two of them go into the garage, and Kea comes out a second later, getting out of her suit, revealing a beautiful white dress underneath. I give a questioning look, but then realize: she wants Sam to tell her he loves her. I hear a noise that resembles crying, and steal a glance at the garage. Sam get out, and I see Bee… crying? Sam! What did you do?! Look, you made your guardian cry! You have no soul. I didn't get much info on Bee, but from what I heard, the Cons hate him because he's just so loveable and cute and it disgusts them to the pit and back. Wait… pit? Damn it, I need to hang out with them less. I'm starting to use their curse words now. Ok, let my rephrase that: it disgusts them to the _hell_ and back. There, better. I _really_ need a life.

I 'step into the other room' as Kea tries to get Sam to say he loves her, but he cheats his way out of it. That's right, always leave them wanting more. Look who's been paying attention to me. Looks like Kea was outsmarted in her own game this time. Sam learns fast, good for him. Kea gets back into her biker suit and walk over to me.

"Hey Abby, um, if you want to, you can stay at my place tonight," she suggests.

"Oh, um… sure, thanks.

"Oh and um… don't tell anyone, 'k? Otherwise you'll go to jail," she warns.

"Pft, no probs." Besides, even if I do go to jail, I'll get out of there before I even get into the courtroom. In fact, just with the money I have in my bank accounts, I can invest in their little NEST organization for _decades_ – we're talking near five billion dollars, not all of it, however, is actually mine, thank you Frenzy.

I suddenly sense being watched and subtly look around, catching sight of a tiny drone with a toy monster truck for an alt. mode. We have a few of those, so I can't be sure which one it is. Oh well, I'll find out tomorrow. As for now, I have somewhere to be.


	4. Chapter 3: scrap done and Alice

**AN: to those who are reading; thank you very much for doing so. Really; I really appreciate it. Anyway so… I don't own Transformers, and enjoy.**

Sam… you're a dick. I mean really, what kind of guy ditches his girlfriend on their first web chat date? You are the biggest ass hole out there, I'm not even joking. Mikaela and I have already started plotting out revenge upon him. Sweet, sweet revenge.

I follow Kea into her shop as she talks to her dog, Bones, in that voice you use when you're around babies. I told her about the cube shard, and we put it in the shop safe. I had been debating over whether to tell her or not, but then realized that it would give the drone the excuse he needs to be here.

I plop down on the couch lazily as Kea feeds Bones and checks over a few things. Argh; I hate Abby. I hate that she's weak and helpless, I hate that she a total weirdo, a hate that she's so depending on everyone around her. I hate her sense in fashion, I hate that she's a wimpy little girl, I hate that she can't speak any language other than English, I hate that she doesn't ever think ahead, I hate that she's a terrible liar; I. Hate. Her. I hate everything about her. Abby Spencer. What an awful name. But Sam and Mikeala love Abby, she's like a sister to them. They love her, they trust her, they rely on her. I sometimes foolishly say that they like me, but then Starscream reminds me that they like Abby; they've never even met Cassandra.

I have other friends though. Well, you can't really call them friends, but they don't hate me. Ravage, who has been on and off of Earth for the past year, doesn't hate me. He's the Cybertronian version of like a cheetah or a panther or something. But at heart, he's a kitten. And every kitten wants attention. So I give it to him. He's probably the only one who when he wants to play he means run around and have fun together, not him chasing after me and me running for my life like hell is hot on my heels. Too bad he left Earth a month ago. When he's on Earth and not running around killing people, we hang out at one of my houses.

And you can imagine how we met. You know, I used to have a dog. And then he just kind of disappeared for a few weeks. Then Alice came, laughing her ass off at something. Well, at least his death was quick. It's the best case scenario, given that he peed on Ravage. I met Ravage when Alice made me apologize for my pest getting his nasty fluids all over the poor, innocent Ravage who didn't do anything wrong. He and Alice sometimes train me together. It's fun, even though it's dangerous. It's kind of like playing, only more intense, and I get hell if I don't pay attention.

Kea's phone rings and she looks at the screen, checking the ID

"Yes, Samuel," she answers, irritated. Oh, now look who's calling. I hear a whirling noise that sounds like a remote controlled car. Oh, ok, the drone is here; good, I can finally get going on my job. Alice called last night said she needs me to get Sam into a car, along with his Mikeala if possible. Starscream will see to it that Megatron knows of me and helps me stay under cover. Said if we play it right, I'll be officially let in on the Autobot secret and put under protection and the Cons will finally have a spy right in the heart of NEST. What? You're acting as if what I think counts. I just do what I'm told, and if I do it right, I get paid. Not necessarily money, but you get the point; where do you think I got the holographic mirror? For those who don't know, it's… well, it's a holographic, 3D reflection of me, only it's tapped into my closet and shows me in different clothes every time I say 'next'. That way I know what to wear without of having to try everything on.

"I can't believe you were gonna stand me up on our first web-chat date," Kea says, sitting down behind a desk, looking bored and frustrated. Yeah, can't blame her. "What you finally hit puberty?" and with that, I don't even bother trying to hold back my laugh. Good one, Kea!

_"Wathcawawa! Watch the foot!"_ I hear Sam scream at someone on the other end of the line… all the way across the room. Kea flinches away from the phone at the volume. Wow, dude shouts loudly. Suddenly Mikeala's entire expression changes. She loses the attitude and become genuinely worried. Ok…? They… they wouldn't attack Sam now, would they? What's going on?

"Since what?" Kea asks, standing up. "Yeah… I found it… well, Abby did. It's in the shop safe." At that, I hear the whirling noise again, this time louder. Good, he needs to get her attention. I immediately slip into Abby, ready to react accordingly to anything that might happen. "I'm not gonna touch it," Kea assures Sam, "It's fine, it's locked away, no one knows where it is."

"I do," I hear the drone say from where the safe is. I turn to it, looking confused. There is more noise, as if the drone is jumping, and then "You're hot, but you ain't so bright." More whirling. "There we go." **_Snap_**. Shit, what in the hell was that? "Oh-t-ey-sunuva-bitch." Did he just get himself into a… mousetrap? "What are you lookin at, _slobapus_." Slobapus? Tee-hee; nice word. But really, a mousetrap? Seriously? "Teh-what the-? This place's a frikin house o' horrors." Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Don't laugh. The drone starts making too much noise and I – Abby – carefully get up, slowly walking to the safe. I lift one arm in front of me as a shield, being very careful.

"Pa-papa… papa-papapa-papapapa…" my shadow blocks his sun and he looks up. Wheely? They sent _Wheely_? Kill me now. He screams, and so do I, taking cover behind my arms. He starts trying to get away, and I dart for him, reaching for something, and find some sort of grabbing tool. Perfect. I reach for the drone, grabbing him by the neck. He thrashes around, trying to get free. "Is that the best you got, eh?! Is that the best you can do?!" he shouts at me, clearly not recognizing me yet. Oh but I recognize him alright. And when this is over, he'll be taking a bat to his face. Then I see a blowtorch, and get a better idea. I shove him against a table of tools, grab the blow torch, turn it on, and shove it into his eye. He screams like a little bitch, and I have to struggle against the smile that is threatening my features. Damn it, I'm enjoying this a little too much.

"What are you doing here you little creep?!" I shout at him, sneering.

"AHHH! That's my eye, you crazy _bitch_!" he screams, his eye falling out. Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Don't laugh. Whatever you do, don't laugh. "You talking now?" I ask him as he tries to fix his eye. Kea appears next to me, shock plain on her face.

"I seek knowledge from the cube. The Fallen commands me-"

"What knowledge?!" I sneer, having absolutely no idea what's he going on about.

"You got the shard; I need the shard. Gimme the shard; I need the shard. You got the shard; they're gonna _whack_ me, I'm gonna be _dead_ without the shard!" Wheely babbles on. I shake him violently, silencing him.

"Shut up! Be grateful we're giving you your life!" I shout, wrath lacing my voice. I sound so scared yet menacing; I sound perfect.

"Easy Warrior Goddess; I'm just a little salvage scrap drone!"

"And I'm every nightmare you'll ever have," I say through my teeth. Kea drops an empty toolbox next to me and I stuff him in, locking it, and kicking it to shut him up. "I said shut up!"

"Wow, didn't know you had it in you," Mikeala says with a grin.

"Yeah well, you can never really know the true extent of damage an angry woman can inflict," I say, brushing a fallen strand out of my face. Mikeala gets back on the phone with Sam, and I take a moment to regain my composure. That was fun. I enjoyed myself a little too much there though. Then again, the little pervert deserved it. Won't go creeping up on women in the shower anymore. He's been on the run from me for a year, and he didn't ever entirely remember what I looked like, so he just stayed away from anything female. Kea hangs up the phone and grabs the toolbox with Wheely in it.

"Abby, I need you to stay here. Look after the shop until I come back."

"What? No! Mikeala, this thing, it was here because of that cube thing, right? Does it want something from Sam?"

"Yes, I think, but I don't know, maybe."

"Then I'm coming with you."

"No, Abby, it's dangerous. I don't want to drag you into this."

"Kea, I'm already in this. Like it or not, Sam is my friend, and friends protect each other."

"Ok, let's go. Get the cube shard," Kea says, running to the garage. I get the cube shard from the safe, examining it for a second. Knowledge? What knowledge? No one tells me anything except for the things I absolutely need to know.

"Mikeala!"

"What?"

"You said the Auto-guys are with the military. Should we tell them"?

"I'll contact them. Do you know how to drive a bike?"

"You bet."

"Good. I have a few bikes in the garage, go get one and wait for me outside," she tells me, getting back on the phone. Knowledge? Something big is going on and it involves Sam, I just know it. And I'm not in on it. This means they don't entirely trust me… which means everything is _very_ bad for Sam. But I can't do anything about it.

XxXxX

"Excuse me," I say, leaning over the counter, "My friend and I, we're looking for Samuel Witwicky."

"And you are…?"

"His girlfriend," Mikeala answers for me.

"One second, let me check…" the office lady says in a board tone. "Ah, here, dorm 423."

"Thank you," I say, and we head upstairs to the fourth floor. On the way to the airport I dropped by 'my uncles' place' – the place is actually mine, but no one knows it – to change into a fresh pair of jeans, a tank top, and a pair of dark jean converse shoes. I actually like converse shoes, especially the dark jean ones; they actually look nice.

We make it to dorm 423 and I take a moment to make fun of the 'he's watching you' poster on it. Whoever shares a room with Sam is weird. Mikeala opens the door and the second I get the slightest glimpse of the room, I have a hard time keeping my face shocked. Alice is there… on top of Sam… on a bed. That's it, he and Kea are over. Great going Alice, great going. She looks up, looking all Alice-y and seductive. That girl can play a whore really well, I'll give her that.

"Sam?" Kea asks, getting Sam's attention. He looks at us, horrified.

"Mikeala… Abby." Abby, that's right. I just caught my friend cheating on his girlfriend. Abby is pissed as fuck.

"Is that your girlfriend"? Alice asks seductively.

"Ex," Kea says, already on the verge of tears.

"Sam you disgust me," I spit, and follow Kea out of the room. Behind me, I hear Alice's tongue shoot out. It's a sound I know too well and hate. On instinct and by habit, I duck down, turning around to catch it, but find nothing there. Right, it's coming from the room. And now it sounds like Alice 'playing' with me. Oh shit, that's not very good. Abby is worried; her friend sounds like he's getting hurt. I run back to the room, Kea on my heels, to see Alice's six foot long imitation of a tongue throwing Sam across the room. "Sam, your bed-buddy, Alice-" some kid says, coming into the room. "Wow, wow, wow."

"Who are you?" I ask him, giving him a weird look

"Habla usted español?" What? Oh god. I must have heard his accent and automaticaly switched to Spanish. Fuck! How could I have messed up like that? Oh well, too late to go back now. I raise my eyebrows at him, as if to tell him 'you could say that', and turn my attention back to Alice. Someone screams, and it isn't me or Mikeala, it's... Sam? Dude, you scream like Wheely – aka, like a little girl. Kea tosses the toolbox – with Wheely in it – at Alice, who easily dodges it. I look at her in shock, bearing in mind that Abby has never seen something like that before. The toolbox flies out the window and Sam gets up, running.

We all run for our lives out to dometory, and to the library next to it, screaming as we do.

"It'a an alien robot, you gotta move!"

"They're real?!"

"Yeah, you gotta move" we hide in the library, sitting there quietly, and I inoccently listen to Sam and Kea's little spat about cheating and breaking up. Suddenly the wall behind us explodes and we shriek. Kea pulls a dazed me to the railing, climbing over. I'm not in 'Abby' mode anymore, I'm in 'Self defence' mode now. I jump over the railing, nicely sticking the launding, grab the frist person my hand touches – Kea – and run. As we do, I look for cover, finding only tables. Well, a table it is. In my run, I duck to my kness, falling and pulling Kea with me, and we slide underneath a table for cover. Alice starts blowing up the entre library, ruthlessly shooting at anyhting in her path. We all scream in fear as she gets closer. I signal Kea to move and we crawl away from her under the tables, covering our heads as wood and pieces of books fly eveywhere.

We all crawl up to a wall, and Alice conveniently shoots right through it. No, she wouldn't miss like that. I'd done this before, in training. She doesn't do warning shots. She doesn't ever miss her target. She wants us outside. That means someone is waiting for us out there. I carefully glance at her for the briefest second, and it's enough. I can tell by the way she's looking at me: she's ordering me to get them outside. So I do. I help them up and we run out the library through the hole in the wall. People run and scream all around us, and I almost laugh. This is so much like training… or like when Alice is bored. Except this time, I'm finally not the one screaming like a frightened bitch.

"We got to get that box!" Kea shouts. I run to it, picking it up. Wheely is inside, shouting and cursing and whatnot. I run back to the others who are already in a car, with Kea hotwiring it. Sam gets in the car, but when he sees me running to them, climbs over to the back. I toss the toolbox in the back with him and that Spanish kid what's-his-name. I think he said his name was Lio or Leao or Leo or something along those lines. The car finally starts, but somehow, Alice appears on the hood of the car, smashing the windshield open and attacking us with her nasty metal imitation of a tongue. I scream – in disgust rather than in fear, but it still counts – shielding my face. God forbid that thing touches me… especially my face because it is just absolutely gross, trust me, I speak from experience.

Kea starts the car, driving through the city for a little as we all scream. I don't even consider using my training on her because Abby has no experience with this – however being rich, she does have some basic self defense training and can throw a few punches and kicks.

Before I know it, Kea drives straight towards a street lamp. Oh god. A part of me – quite a big one, to my surprise – wants to warn Alice, to tell her to watch out. She might be a Decepticon and she might hate me… mainly because I'm a weak, puny human fleshbag… but I can't help but… _not_ hate her. She's annoying and irritating and a real bitch, but I don't hate her. In fact, she's been on Earth for quite some time – she's been around most of my life. She's like that sister that hates you no matter what you do because you are younger than her. But no matter how badly she treats you, no matter how much she hurts you, regardless of what she says or does to you, you always look up to her, you see her as better than you and sometimes wish you were like her; cool and popular and hot and good at everything she does. She's like the hateful older sister that will throw you to the sharks if she can, but you still can't help being jealous of her.

But before I can say anything, Kea runs into the lamppost. My heart sinks to my stomach. Alice is… _dead_? My hands nearly fly to my mouth, but I manage to control myself. She's dead. No, no she can't be dead! How can she be dead? No it's… it's not right, she shouldn't be dead! Kea, you killed her! I never liked Alice, but she been in my life for so long that… I've grown used to her. I've grown used to all of them. Believe it or not, I actually felt a little sad when I heard that Frenzy got himself killed.

I say my prayers, wishing Alice to find her peace as we drive out onto the road, not paying attention to anyone. She shouldn't have died. It's wrong. It isn't like she was actually trying to kill us. I know for fact she really wanted to, but she wasn't actually going to kill us.

Suddenly something bursts through the roof of the car and we all scream. What's going on? I didn't know about this. Then again, I don't know much of anything. The thing – some kind of grabbing claw or something, hooks onto the roof of the car and I feel the car being lifted. Oh god. The tires leave the ground and something, someone's car, slams into our car's rear. The car goes spinning and we all scream. Oh my god! I don't want to die!

On impulse, I reach for the 'oh shit' handle on the door… and miss

**AN: so what do you think of the story so far? Am I confusing you with the whole Abby/Cassandra part? If so tell me, and I'll explain it. Anyway, hope you like the chapter, and see you next time!**


	5. Chapter 4: Traitor

**AN: I don't own Transformers, enjoy!**

Before I know it, I'm holding onto the 'oh shit' handle for dear life itself as I screech in absolute terror, dangling over a busy road. I scream bloody murder and everyone else in the car screams my name, reaching out to me, trying to pull me back into the car. The car spins out or control, tossing me every which way. My shrieking feels like swallowing acid. It burns my throat but my throat is the least of my concerns. Before I know it, we're flying over the river. Oh god. If I fall… ouch, it hurts just thinking about it.

Kea finally manages to get a hold of my hand and I hold onto her like a lifeline – which right now she technically is. She, with the help of Sam and the other kid, pull me into the car, whose front is tilted down, facing the water. No amount of training has ever prepared me for this. I've been trained in self defense, basic hand to hand, shooting, getting away from a Bot or Con, but never have I received any form of training that involved me hanging out of a car, screaming for dear life. I'm not prepared for this!

We fly for another three or so minutes, towards an old factory. There is nothing past it. Oh. My. God. We're all going to die. Just as I think that. The claw folds up and we slip. And it as if times slows down one thousand present. You know, when you fall, even if you fall for a second, it still feels slower. No matter for how long you fall, it always seem longer. However long our fall was, it felt like an eternity. It also felt like pissing myself and dropping my stomach somewhere behind me. I scream in terror as we slowly fall towards the broken roof of the factory.

Let me tell you, even if a roof breaks your fall, it still doesn't change the fact that you are falling. The car crashes through the roof, and though I admit we slow down drastically, when we hit the floor, every organ in my body painfully falls forward. I feel everything inside me slam into each other, turning into a mess of internal organs. I feel as if my eyeballs are about to fall out and blood rushes to my face and stomach. That… that isn't something I want to experience ever again. I feel as if I'm about to throw up all over the place. Just as I think it can't get any worse, the car falls backwards, landing on its roof, and I painfully fall, lying twisted into a pretzel on the roof, which is now on the bottom.

A saw cuts through the bottom – which is now at the top – of the car, slicing it in half like it's paper. We all scream, and I barely manage to get my hand out of the way. Out of nowhere, I begin to shake. I just want to go home. This isn't for me. Training and real life is two different things, I'm not meant for something like this. My field is spying; getting information. I lie, I gain trust, I get info, I report; that's what I do, that's what I'm trained to do best. I'm good at other things, but I rarely use my other skills. This isn't for me. This is way out of me league!

Each half of the now sliced car fall to either side, and I look up at a familiar face. A face that bears nothing but disgust and hatred… until his optics land on me and for the briefest of moments, I see confusion. It hits me like a ton of bricks: I wasn't supposed to be here. The confusion is even more briefly replaced by worry. He didn't want me to already be dead as I thought originally; I was simply not supposed to come with them. Starscream doesn't want me to be here.

But it's all immediately gone, disgust coming back to his face as if it never left. He says something in what I can only say is Cybertronian, and... I think he spits. He stands up straight and so do I, holding onto Kea.

"Who is that?" I whisper, remembering that Abby doesn't know anything.

"That's Starscream" she tells me, her voice shaking in fear. I hear growling behind me and turn around, seeing an unfamiliar face. I have a good guess, but I just need the confirmation. Kea turns around, and gasps, shock and terror clear on her face. It's all I need in order to know: it's Megatron. They've succeeded in reviving him. His optics blaze with hatred and disgust and fury; _especially_ fury once they find Sam, the boy who killed him. He doesn't even look at Kea, the kid, or me. Does he know? Alice said she'd warn him about me. Now that doesn't mean he won't kill me if he wants to, but does he know about me? And if Alice told him about me, why was Starscream surprised to see me? Was there a change of plans I wasn't aware of but was supposed to be?

I feel several stings on my arm, cheekbone, and forehead. I don't need to look to know that a have a not at all small gash on my arm, and a deep cut on my cheek and forehead. I know the feeling too well. I received injuries like these in training – but only in training, injuring me outside of training was not allowed. That said, it only means that they all took everything out on me at once instead of having the injuries come more frequently, but in lesser amounts at once. That too said, after every training session, one of their doctors would come and heal me. They were ordered to do a very good job, and they did: I never had a single mark on me. Not a single bit of evidence that I was in any way injured. Blood fills my vision and I wipe it away, leaving me with a warm stain of blood on my hand.

"Come here, boy," Megatron orders, his voice echoing throughout the vast room. For the first time, I look around, finding us on what I can only call a balcony; a very large balcony on the second floor. I turn around to find Sam walking up towards Megatron, his hinds in the air in surrender. "Closer," Megatron growls impatiently. Kea's breathing quickens and she makes a move towards Sam, but I instinctively take a hold of her arm, holding her near me. Abby did that to hide behind someone, but Cassandra did it to protect Kea. She better not say anything. Otherwise she isn't going to like the outcome one bit.

Sam walks down the stairs, trying to keep his shaking under control. Yeah, if the guy I killed was right there, I'd be worried for my life too. What do they want with Sam? Is this about revenge? You kill me, I kill you? No, there is something more here. They need Sam for something, I just know it. They need him for something big.

"I did what you said ok?" Sam says, fear clear in his voice, even though he's trying really hard to hide it. "Just don't hurt them-"

"-Shut up!" Megatron growls in fury, and reaches for Sam, throwing him across the room. He screams, we all do.

"SAM!" Kea and I scream in unison, horrified at what had just happened. Sam lands on a cement table, groaning in agony, his face twisted into a silent scream. My heart rate increases in fear for the boy whom I have so soon come to recognize as a trusted friend and was so quick to betray without thought. I didn't think twice before following orders and now Sam is getting hurt. It's such a double edged sword. It's like no matter what I do, I end up betraying someone; either Sam or the Decepticons.

The truth is; they've been around my entire life and in my twisted, sick mind, I see them as a sort of family. Well, a lot more of a family then Arthur. Alice is the hateful, cruel sister that I envy, Ravage the repulsive, horrifying pet that you can't help but love, Starscream, the impulsive, dangerous, and brutally hurting legal guardian that I will never go against because he pays more attention to me then my father ever did. In a disgusting, messed up way, they're all my family of sorts. They hurt me and yet like a wounded puppy, I stay, not wanting to leave my owners no matter how much they beat me. It's so sick and repulsive and wrong. But it's the life I always knew as mine. It's revolting and masochistic, but no matter how much they hurt me, I always stay and take whatever they throw at me.

But on the other hand, Sam and Kea are my best friends… my only friends. I have other people I call friends, but I only call them that. They never felt like friends. I feel like I can tell Sam and Kea anything and they will not only listen to me, but if it's a secret, they will keep it and not use it as a juicy tid-bit the next time they talk to someone. I don't think I can say that about anyone else. I know I can trust them… and I told them they could trust me and I led them straight to the Decepticons. I don't even know what they want from Sam; they told me, and I did it, just as I always do. I did it without questioning or second thought. I betrayed my friends without blinking an eye. I used their trust. But if I didn't, I'd be betraying my family. And it sucks that no matter how you spin it, I will end up betraying someone close to me.

I'm a traitor, that's what I am. A disgusting, messed up traitor with a complex of being left.

"Doctor," Megatron growls, and this brings me back to the present, "Examine this… alien specimen." I watch doctor, who I recognize to be Scalpel, get out of his microscope alt. form, and crawl onto Sam's chest, babbling something in Cybertronian. What will they do to Sam? I look at Kea, who I can see is crying, and then the Spanish kid, who is also wearing a horrified expression. I have no idea what my face looks like, but I immediately make it look like Abby's face, scared and confused and about to start hysterically crying – so basically a made my facial expression look a lot like the kid's.

Some Decepticon version of a bird, one I'd never seen before, or at least don't remember seeing, comes out of nowhere, dropping a worm-like Con onto Sam's chest. I'd seen one of those before, only caught a glimpse of it, but it was enough to make me gag. Scalpel opens Sam's mouth, and Sam gags over and over again as the worm crawls into his mouth. Just the sight makes me want to barf. That is… I'm… I think I'll be sick. Sam coughs several times and barfs the worm out. Scalpel catches it and starts projecting images from it. Pictures of Cybertronian writing, Ron and Judy, Mikeala… me. Those are all his thoughts. I can't believe that right now of all times, he's thinking of not only his family, but of me. The thought makes me want to tear up. Not cry, but still tear up. I don't remember the last time I cried for real, not for show.

The doctor throws the worm away, tossing it like a rag. Yeah, Scalpel is the doctor I like the least. He's always been quite careless in his work. He got it done, not paying any mind to the quality of his work. One time he was told to heal me after training… I had to get a _lot_ of plastic snuggery to cover the scar he inflicted in the process.

"Ve must khev ze brain on ze tabul! Chop chop!" the doctor says in a French accent. My theory about their accents was that their accent is based on the Earth language they download first. He downloaded French first, thus the French accent.

Wait, did he just say brain? What? What's going on? Wait… oh god. They want to get information from his mind… it's going to kill him. Oh god no! I want to shout, to say something to them, to stop them. But if I do, my cover will be blown. And if they take me back, I'll be punished… really strictly. No… no, no, no, no, no! Please! Please don't do this! Please! He's done nothing wrong! Ok well, maybe he killed Megatron, so that counts as something bad but… no, please! I want to tell them to stop, I want to save Sam, but there is nothing a human like me can do. Nothing at all.

Sam… I can't even say how sorry I am. I can't even say how ashamed I feel of myself right now. I killed you. Sam, I'm sorry. Sam! Sam please! Please don't kill him! Please! No! No, SAM!

I screech silently in my head, knowing that no one will ever hear me.

I'm sorry! So very sorry! I didn't know they were going to do this, I didn't know they were going to kill you, I swear! I did what I was told, I'm sorry! They didn't tell me anything, I didn't know I swear! Sam I'm sorry! SAM!

I shriek as something huge crashes through the ceiling and something else comes bursting through the wall. I cover my head, screaming. Someone – Kea – grabs me by the arm, and drags me. In the last moment I remember Wheely. I get the box from the car and run after Kea and the other guy.

Once outside, Bee pulled up in front of us, and we got in. We drove on into a forest, but I couldn't focus the entire time. I'm sorry Sam. I can't even say just how sorry I am. I didn't know what they wanted from you, I swear. I am so, _so_ sorry. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so incredible sorry. We pull up in the middle of a Decepticon on Autobot battle and Sam – Sam! – runs up to the car. He gets in and we drive away and in my head, I repeat over and over again just how sorry I am for what I did in my head. I repeat how sorry I am, and hate myself.

**AN: so what do you think? We have little actual speaking in this chapter, mainly thoughts and slight character development. What do you think of Cassandra/Abby? Do you like her? Give me some thought/feedback please – hopefully more than three words. Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter and see you in a few days! Bye!**


	6. Chapter 5: Where the truth lays

**AN: ok so, here is chapter five, I hope those of you who are reading it are enjoying the story. So if you like it; read away. I don't own Transformers.**

Have you ever done something so terrible that it's eating you from the inside so much that it physically hurts? Have you ever regretted something so much that just thinking about it made you want to go and hurt yourself for it? Well, it was happening to me right now. I was hiding in a room in the building we stopped by, and I was crying hysterically. I had a good excuse for the rest of them. I was sitting on the cold floor, and crying myself dry of tears. God did I ever hate myself. I can't even put it to words.

I felt like… no; I _was_ the worst person in the world: I had led Sam straight to his death. He could have _died_ yesterday. He could have been killed by Megatron and I could as well have killed him myself! _Me_! I led him there! He was there because of me, because I was given orders and I followed those orders without hesitation! Because I was loyal to those who treated me like something worse than sewage. I was like a wounded puppy in the hands of an abusive owner, yet it was the only life I knew, and I was afraid to give it up in the fear that the outcome might be worse.

I was the worst person ever. I hated myself over and over again. Another round of uncontrollable sobs rocked through me and I started to choke on my breath and tears. I sat on the floor, my head in my hands, and wailed, hating myself for what I've done, and hating myself for being loyal to the Decepticons when they'd done nothing to earn that loyalty.

Or have they? They've been around my whole life, and they'd paid way more attention to me than my own father. They've given me something – even if it is false – to believe in. They've given me – even if it's not true – a family. I know it's wrong to think of them as being a family to me, but I can't _not_ think of them that way. They've taught me everything I know, they taught me to survive. They are everything I know; I can't betray them. And I didn't. The only person I betrayed is Sam, my best friend. It was a horrible thing to do, he could have died, and it would have been my fault. In the end, if the Decepticons ask me to do something else… I'm eighty percent sure I would do it. Because Sam and the rest of his friends – human and Mech alike – have done nothing to earn my loyalty and friendship. We aren't in an alliance of any sort, so whatever I do I will not be betraying them. The way I see it, feeding the Decepticons information isn't any form of betrayal.

I pull myself together and stop crying. Crying like a little child. That was the first time I had cried for real in ten years. Weak; weak and pathetic. How could I have allowed myself such behavior? I'm a coward.

No, I'm a girl working for the Cons, not a coward! I'm a Con spy, and I will behave as such!

I slap myself into shape and wipe away all of my tears. I pace the room for another ten minutes, allowing the redness and swelling from my atrocious crying to leave my face. After ten minute of harshly scolding myself for showing such weakness, I leave the room, joining Sam and the others. The moment I see Sam, my regained composure nearly shatters.

Sam I'm sorry! I swear I didn't know they wanted you dead! I'm sorry! Sam please, I'm sorry!

I shout in my head, making no sound, and letting nothing show on my face. No one hears me, and no one ever will. We left Wheely in his toolbox in a locked room. We made our stay in… I think it's something like a cross between a junkyard and a cemetery and a warehouse. I'm not sure exactly what it is here. I watch Sam scold Leo – the Spanish kid – who is freaking out like a little bitch. Then again, I guess his freaking out is justified. He isn't Sam; he isn't some adrenaline driven hero who faced Megatron and lived, he doesn't have any experience with this. But it's _what_ he's whining about that unsettles me.

"Hey, what's going on?" I ask, coming closer to them.

"Oh ey! Look at who's back!"

"It be da li'l human femme!"

"Ya, 'bout time!" the twins, Mudflap and Skids, shout in their wannabe gangster accents. I have to admit, I find them kind of cute. They're so everywhere and full of energy; their like little kids. They want to know everything and be everywhere. And they are very competitive with each other. They're just like human twins; they'll curse at each other and call each other manes and fight, but at the same time, they will always have each other's backs.

"Ya, ya, I'm back, I'm sorry. Ya I had a breakdown, sorry about that; Sam, what's going on? What's Leo talking about? I heard him say something about the government, what's going on?" I honestly have no idea.

"The authorities are after us," is his answer. I blink. What?

"What do you mean? Why? Ok ya, no more breakdowns, I missed too much. From the start please; what's happening? What's goin on?"

"Some creepy-looking Decepticon told the world about the existence of Cybertronians and told everyone to find me and bring me to them. If not, they will destroy something like a country. If we resist, they will be kill us, if we don't cooperate, they will be kill us, basically if humans anything but look for me, we're all dead!" Sam shouts in frustration, anger flaming in his eyes. I'd never seen him like that. In all honesty, it scares me a little.

So the Decepticons are getting humans to do their work for them; that sounds like them. Poor Sam; his own people turned on him. He has nowhere to go because if he shows his face, he will be captured and handed over to the Decepticons… and it's all my fault. Sam leaves – probably needing time to think – but I follow. There are some things I suddenly want to know. I follow him to a far away part of the junkyard/cemetery/warehouse, where no one can here or bother, and sit next to him on the ground, remaining quiet for a little while.

"I'm sorry for shouting at you. You aren't supposed to be a part of this; it's your right to be freaking out."

"It could be worse," I joke, but I know how he takes it. I know that even in a joking tone, he knows that I'm referring to his situation and how he isn't locked up in a room and crying. He's here and he's trying to solve the problem for all of us, not just himself. I don't know if he knows it or not, but he is a born leader. But I need to get to my questions. "Sam, if it isn't too much to ask, what are the Autobots like?" I ask, curiosity eating at me. I've heard little of them except that the Cons hate them. I don't actually know anything about who they are as Cybertronians.

"Well, where do I start… well, there is Bee, or his full name, Bumblebee. He's my guardian. He's the first Autobot I met when I bought him as my first car without knowing it. After he saved Makeala and I from a Decepticon named Barricade, we met the rest of the Autobots. Bee is like a child. I guess technically, in a way, he is. The rest of them refer to him as Youngling, making him the youngest Autobot on Earth. I think the human age equivalent would be approximately twenty, maybe twenty one years old. Then there is Ironhide. He's a weapon specialist. He's a walking arsenal and very gruff and overly trigger-happy. He hates the Cons, maybe more than the rest, although maybe he just shows his hate most. He doesn't particularly like human… or dogs… but he wouldn't ever hurt a human on purpose; none of them would. It's their sacred rule: never harm humans. Of course there are casualties, but they never intentionally hurt humans." Wow, I never heard about that. But… who do I believe? Sam and the Cons tell me two very different stories. The Decepticons love harming humans, they see us as well… basically earth worms. Useless and weak… then again, they have a point; we _are_ useless and weak.

"Ratchet is the medical officer, and/or mechanic. He isn't very social and very grumpy. He doesn't like being distracted, especially when he is working, but like the rest, he would never really harm a human. He can threaten – I have to say, that guy could be quite scary sometimes – but those are empty threats… at least to the humans. He wouldn't ever truly harm a human. It would go against everything he ever was, is, or will be. Especially him, since he's a medic." I couldn't believe it. The Con medics… well, they do have some really good ones, ones that really care about what they are doing, but then there are the other ones, like Scalpel, who just get the job done, and don't care if they cause more injuries in the process. Sam continues, and I listen, barely believing.

"There's Sideswipe. He isn't particularly fond of humans, and he's a speed demon. Again, he would intentionally hurt anyone… unless they're a Decepticon, in which case he'd cause as much damage as possible." I hold back a gulp at that. Why are they even fighting anyway? They say they're better than humans, but are they really? They killed their planet; they destroyed their home. Why do they all hate each other so much? It's wrong! "Then you have the Arcee sisters. They're triplets, and the only female Autobots on Earth. I think you and them would get along as best friends, in all honesty. Ya, you'd love each other. I don't know much of Jolt, and you already know Skids and Mudflap. They drive everyone crazy…"

None of them would harm a human intentionally… no matter if they deserve it or not – according to Sam. The Decepticons lied… again – again, according to Sam. Then again, they always lie. Was anything of what they told me true? Sam's words counter everything I have ever been told… no. No I will not believe Sam. Believing him would mean letting my guard down, and letting my guard down would get me killed.

Never let your guard down with anyone; that's what I've always been taught; that's what Starscream always told me. He told me to watch out for everyone, to never fully trust them with anything. Be aware of both the Autobots and the Decepticons because both will want to hurt me. I will not believe what Sam said. You always assume the worst someone can do so that you are prepared for the worst they will do to you. Even if their good, you still assume the worst. Then you are prepared to defend yourself and get away if needed.

Ya, you heard me right, get away. Sometimes the only way to survive is to run a hide. Starscream has always told me this: only the cowards survive; those who launch into battle – especially alone – end up dead, so sometimes, it is necessary to be a coward and run. So if something happens, you must always be prepared to retreat.

Then something creeps into my heart; longing. I miss Starscream. He's the only one of the Decepticons who has never tried to kill me. That all is going to go away in a month. Then I will turn eighteen and no longer be a sparkling and whatever he felt about my age will be gone and if he wants to, he will have me killed, if not kill me himself.

But I still, in my messed up, horrible way, love him. He was around a lot more then my father, he played more attention to me; he taught how to best survive and to always choose the side that wins. He taught me that the only way to win is to cheat; he taught me that in one way or another, everyone wants to hurt me so I can't trust anyone fully. He never hid it from me that even he sometimes wants me dead, none of them did, but hearing him say the words himself, it hurt me more then I let on. The Decepticons are the only family I know, especially Starscream; and hearing him say that he wants to kill me sometimes… it hurt me. But at the same time, he was the only one who ever said anything good to or about me. He was the only one who ever said I did well on something, and that erased all hurt from me, to hear that I did well, and to hear it from the one who has replaced me my father. Alice was right, the man I jokingly called 'dad' *shutter*… Megatron paid more attention to her while he was dead. Starscream replaced father. He became the one to look after me – in his own way.

I miss him.

"Then there is Optimus-"

"No it's ok," I cut him off, not wanting to hear anything about him. I've heard plenty from Starscream, and have no intention of hearing the lies he's fed the humans and Sam. I've heard enough of his cruelty to last me a lifetime, so thanks but no thinks. "Don't bother, you've told me a lot already. Besides, you've watched him die; I don't want to make you talk about it. It's hard enough that it happened." Bring no harm. Pft, as if they didn't tell me how many Decepticons he's single handedly killed when they didn't even engage the fight. They were just minding their own business and he attacked them and killed them without second though or any remorse. I don't want to hear how he has mislead everyone on Earth into believing him to be god, and I don't want to hear how terribly he lied to Sam. So instead, I sand up, and walk away.

.O.o.O.o.O.

Makeala and I were sitting in a thrown away chair in front of the fire… ok, I feel like a hobo. Ya, we made a fire in a trash can to keep warm tonight. See? Hobo. And then Sam came, looking really sad and guilty and put down and ashamed and everything that I feel. Makeala stands up, hugging him sadly.

"There's nothing you could have done," Makeala says, trying to comfort Sam. That's right; Sam blames himself for the death of Optimus. Well, he shouldn't be feeling sad. He doesn't know it yet, but he will; by killing Optimus, Megatron did all of us a favor. Sam leaves Makeala's hold, coming closer to Bee, tears clear in his voice.

"Bee," he says, coming to rest his hand on a broken car, "If you hate me, I understand." Bee looks at him with hurt clear in his optics. No, Bee is Sam's guardian, he wouldn't ever hate Sam; he might be angry at him, but you can never hate your charge. A guardian and a charge share a special bond.

Bee turns his face away in sadness. Does he miss his leader? If so then… why? Starscream didn't seem to be too upset at Megatron's death. On the contrary, he seemed quite happy. "I messed up," Sam says, looking like he's about to cry. No Sam, you didn't mess up; I did. I fucked up big time. And my mistake was a lot less forgivable than yours. You still have a huge chance at finding forgiveness, and I have no chance at all. You've been nothing but a friend to me, and I betrayed you without thinking twice about it. Please don't blame yourself. It's my fault, not yours; you did nothing wrong. I'm the one who messed up and I'm the one who should be apologizing. If only I could.

"I messed up… I'm sorry." are you fucking kidding me?! _God_ I want to just go over there and _slap some scenes_ into him. You didn't mess up! You were almost killed! It wasn't your fault the Decepticons came, it was mine! I was the one who was feeding them information on you for two years! Stop apologizing, please! I'm the one who messed up!

Bee makes a whirling noise, and then a radio speaks. _"Young fella… you are… the person I care about most in my life… if there is anything you need, I won't be far away."_ That's right, Bee lost his voice. Poor thing. He's so young – in Cybertronian terms – and he was hurt so badly by thins stupid war. It isn't fair!

He's dead because of me," Sam says, taking a seat with Makeala. No; no if you want to blame someone for the death of Optimus Prime, blame me. If not for me, none of them – or you – would be there in the first place. He's dead because of _me_ not you. Stop blaming yourself for things so far beyond your control. Sam, open your eyes; don't you see? This is anything but your fault. This is the fault of me and of Megatron, not you! "He came there to protect me and he's dead." No, Sam, please, you need to stop beating yourself up over this. You need to open your eyes and see that it wasn't you fault. Sam please, stop being stupid and open your eyes to the truth. You didn't do this; the Decepticons and I did.

_"There's some things you just can't change… so his sacrifice for us would not have been in vain hallelujah!"_ That's right; you can't change the past, so you need to get over it and move on. You can't beat yourself up over it forever, especially if there was nothing you could do. Even if you wanted to save him, you couldn't have.

"I'm gonna make it right, I'm gonna turn myself in-"

"**_What?!_**" I shriek, jumping up. "You freaking crazy or something? You can't di that!"

"Abby, stay out of this-"

"Stay out of it? No; I'm in it as much as the rest of you are! You are my friend. You almost died yesterday! You are _not_ turning yourself in to those… those _things_! They're just going to kill you! You can't do that!"

"Yes I can, I have to. You heard what they said; if I don't show up, they will prove their point and kill a hell of a lot of people."

"But Sam, this is your _life_ here. Optimus died for you. He didn't die so that you can live an extra twenty four hours and still die later! You're goin to turn yourself in, then what? They're going to kill you! Sam, you're my friend, I can't let you do that!"

"Abby please, calm down. You don't understand this. They are not joking. It's me or it's an entire country. I'm going to turn myself in Abby, it's the only way."

_"We-we got to stick together!"_ Bee's radio starts up, and he transforms back into his Camaro form.

"You're not gonna do it," Makeala says as Sam walks to Bee, half sitting on the hood.

"Yes I am," Sam says, evidently closing the discussion. But we are far from done. I brought him to the Decepticons once, I won't do it again. Right now, they do not control me, so I'm going to do whatever it takes to protect Sam; protect Sam and keep my secret. Bee drive at Sam, bumping him forward slightly. It remands me of hoe Ravage used to rub himself against my leg like a real cat.

_"Everything we worked for will be wiped out; in one day!"_ Bee radios to Sam. He's right. Everything they've done to protect Sam will be in vain if he does this. Why can't he see that turning himself in is not an option? It isn't brain surgery for crying out loud! Then it's as if some realization hit Sam like a ton of brick. His whole face changes, becoming all smart and serious. It isn't an expression I'd seen him wear before. It made him look a quite bad ass.

"You two," he says to the twins suddenly, "Hey you know the glyphs, the symb-the-these," he says, holding his arm up and I see a… tattoo? When did he get a tattoo? It was bitch black, darker than coal, and it looked Cybertronian. "The symbols that had been rattling around in my head?"

"Ooh dat-dat's old school yo," Skids says in his funny accent, "Dat… dat's Cybertronian," he say, snapping his fingers as if he remembered how it's called. Wait… they forgot what their language is called? What the fuck? Dude, even I know how to read/write in Cybertronian – not really, only names and hello and goodbye and thank you because their Language is way too fucking complicated for humans; and I spent my whole life learning to write so much because it's fucking impossible. But Skids forgetting his own races writing…

"Oh dat some serious stuff," Mudflap muttered to himself. Wait… writing is serious stuff?

"They gotta mean something," Sam says, "like a message or like a… a like a map! Like a map to an Energon source."

"Read? Nah…"

"What we, we… no, we-we don' really do much readin'" Mudflap says. They don't read? Guys, I – a seventeen, boarder lining eighteen years old – am fluent in four languages, and you – several thousand year old Cybertronians – don't read. Ok… figures… you're high school dropouts; great.

"Well if you can't read it them we need to find someone who can," Sam says definitely. Just then, Leo came out of nowhere, rejoining us after his mental meltdown. Mudflap and Skids go back and forth, insulting him and calling him a pussy – don't laugh, don't laugh, now is not the time to laugh, don't laugh.

"I heard you have a problem; I think I know someone who can help," Leo says. Ya, sure you do.

"Well pleas, do share," I say, concealing my sarcasm well. What can this dude possibly know about aliens that we don't already know?

"Robowarrior," is his one word answer.

**AN: so what do you say? Good? Bad? So-so? Can I get some feedback on the story itself-please? I appreciate constructive criticism; it helps me improve the story. Oh and, the other day I finished reading another Transformers fanfiction because of which this idea was originally born. It inspired me to write this in the first place so I would like to thank SimpleRhapsody for the story 'Twisted'. And with that, please review. Abby out.**


	7. Chapter 6: meat locker

**AN: I don't own Transformers. Enjoy!**

"Abby? Abby wake up, we're there," I hear Keala whisper.

I blink my eyes open, my vision foggy, and awkwardly stretch in the back seat of Bee, making a strange-sounding grunt of satisfaction as I do so. Sleeping curled up in the back seat of a car for god knows how many hours made my limbs aching and stiff. Keala gets out and I follow, stretching fully, and groaning in pleasure at the feeling of just how _good_ that is. I hear a couple of joints making a soft 'pop' as I reach for the sky awkwardly. And as expected, the voice of MIA does not come. No breakfast, no steaming hot shower, no makeover, no nothing. Just the street an-wait… are we standing outside a deli shop?

"Abby, we stopped by a store to change and I wasn't quite sure about your size, but I tried to be accurate. You can um… do you want to change in the car or…?"

"Only if the car 'steps into another room' when I do so," I say sleepily.

"Uh… maybe you should just ask the deli shop where the bathroom is and change in there," Keala says awkwardly.

Yeah, that would be a better idea than getting half naked inside a car that can see you from every angle. Thanks but no thanks, I'm not a stripper, and I _will not_ do strip teases for _anyone_! I take the bag of clothes, wondering where they got the cash to buy it… oh, right; the Bots can hack an ATM and get the cash… or is it just me who knows how to do that? God forbid they used any kind of credit card on this.

"Thanks," I say, heading into the shop. A man behind the counter, ordering people around and announcing stuff.

"Excuse me-"

"Take a number," the man cuts me off.

"What? Oh no, I'm not here to by meat… I was actually wondering where the bathroom is," I tell him.

"You have to buy something first. Take a number."

"Sir, I don't have any money on me, all I need is the bathroom," I say, getting impatient.

"Sorry, can't help you, now go away." And then I was fed up with him.

"Sir, I need to pee, and I'm going to, whether you like it or not. It's either the bathroom or right here on the floor; the choice is yours," I say, angry with the man, who grunts, and glares at me for a moment before pointing to a doorway.

I follow his finger, finding the bathroom to the left. I enter and lock the door behind me. I change into the clothes Keala bought me – which were actually quite nice. A dark gray tank top, dark blue jean shorts, and dark blue, nearly black, jean converse shoes. I give credit where credit is due; Keala has a good taste and a good eye since the clothes fit me just perfectly. I flush the toilet and run the water, rinsing my hands. I almost half expect Alice to contact me. But then I remember that Keala killed her. That's when I think of Starscream, but then remember that I tossed my cell out the window, so none of the Cons had any way to contact me. I had to physically slap myself for waiting for them to call me, reminding myself that they lied to me, and nearly killed Sam, and at least for now, I was free of them and their control.

But that also means I'm on my own, and the decisions are all solely on me. I wasn't used to having control over a situation like this. I was used to following orders; I had never acted on my own accord. Well, I'm going to have to find a way around that. Starscream would want me to stay hidden, and remain close to Sam and the Autobots, so that when all this is over, I can stay close to them and … wait, weren't those my original orders? Yes, they were. I'm not going to need to pretend anything. I'm going to do as previously told. Just because I'm in an unpredictable situation, doesn't mean I have permission to give up on my assignment. That's right. I can do this. I can go on like everything is exactly how it's supposed to be, and if I'm lucky, I will do exactly what was planned for me since Megatron's death. It was their plan all along: to get me into the close trust of the Autobots so the Decepticons can have someone on the inside, getting information.

Taking a breath and readying myself to continue my mission, I leave the bathroom, only to be harshly ordered to leave by the very man – who was now kicking out the entire store.

"No, Simmons, she's with us," Sam says, pushing this Simmons away from me.

Yeah, that's right. You're lucky I'm Abby, because Cassie would rip your arms off and beat you with them if you touched her that way.

"Wait a minute, you know this guy?" Leo asks.

Wait, know him? Is this Robowarrior?

"Yeah, we're old friends," Sam says.

Yup, they fucking hate each other. Who is this anyway?

"Old friends? You are the case that shut down Sector Seven!" The man replies sourly.

S-7? My dad used to fund them! Thank god no one from there saw me; otherwise I'd be fucking screwed!

"No more security clearance, no retirement, no nothin'; all 'cause o' _you_!-"

Yup, they definitely hate each other's guts. And what did you expect, anyway? That all that money you saved up will stay in place once an organization that never existed is shut down? The organization never existed, and neither did all your money.

"-and your little criminal girlfriend. Look at her, so mature," he says, looking Keala over.

And the _way_ he was looking her over made me wanna bitch-slap the perverted guy senseless. Keep your dirty thoughts to yourself, you little creep! His gaze momentary shifts to me, and I _do_ slap the shit out of him… in my head anyway.

"Moron! Where's the white fish?!" some woman shouts.

Did she call someone moron? Some African dude muttered something like 'don't touch me with the pig' or something and all three got in a tiny little argument until I cleared my throat.

"You live with your mama?" Keala asks, sounding amused.

"No, my mama lives with me, there is a difference."

Well, I guess there is; it means that she can't afford to live on her own so she comes and steals her son's apartment.

"They got your face all over the news, alien boy. And NBE One still kicking, ey. How'd that happen? Don't answer; I don't know what you're hiding, but I don't want anything to do with it. So goodbye. I got bagels to-" and then some word I couldn't make out.

Ok, this guy was… a little strange. Sam followed him, arguing his point.

"Give me five seconds. Hold on - I need your help-"

"-Really? You need _my_ help," the guy says sarcastically.

Argh! Give Sam a break will you! He's at the top of every 'wanted' list in the entire world! Quit playing around and making us chase you like you're a high school girl playing hard to get and help us!

"I need-look, I am slowly losing my mind, ok? I had some creepy assed crab-bot plunge a device deep into the soft tissues of my brain and started projecting alien symbols like a freaking home movie, and on top of that, I'm a wanted fugitive! You think you got it rough?"

Good point Sam. Dude, pull your shit together and quit complaining.

"You said it projected images off your brain?" the guy asks, sounding like he might be onto something. Well, let's hope he is and we aren't wasting precious time.

"Right."

"Meet locker!" the guy shouts, jabbing his thumb behind him, to the cooling room. Wait, we're going into a meet locker? Ew! That is just gross! No, there is no way I'm going in a place with dead pigs! Keala just bought me the cutest outfit and I'm going to ruin it with pig stench! Oh-my-god I sound like the girls from school *shudder*.

We follow the dude into the meet locker and he crouches down next to a trap door.

"What you are about to see is top secret. Whatever you do; _do not_ tell my mother."

I've only been in here for not even thirty seconds, but the cool temperature has already gotten to me, raising goose bumps up my bear arms. The dude opened the trap door, revealing a room. Oh yeah, sure, let's follow a creeper into a secret room with a trap door. Nothing suspicious at all. I bet he's got bodies down there. But regardless of my internal fight that no one hears – obviously – and we end up all following him into the secret room.

Ok, this place looks like a very unorganized office. Stacks of paper as tall as skyscrapers line the walls. Cabinets and file and papers are everywhere and-wow, wow, wow… is that…? I walk up to the glass. Oh my god. Before I can stop myself, my hand shoots to my mouth. Frenzy… the creep took Frenzy's head and turned it into his own personal exhibit! I swear once this is over I'm going to-

"Hey! Don't touch! It's still radioactive!" the dude orders Leo, who has joined me and was reaching for the glass!

He wanted to touch Frenzy! The disrespect of these people! I silently pay my final respects, wishing the offlined Frenzy to find peace in the Well Of All Sparks, and join the others, my mood brought down quite drastically. Hey, I get it that the Decepticons kill you, but that doesn't mean they steal your bodies and hang them up on the wall for decoration, you heartless bastard! Show some respect will you!

"Before I got fired," the guy says, opening several cabinets and using them as a ladder – god, if that guy falls, we will all be buried alive there – he says a bunch of things I can't make out until "which point to one inescapable fact: the transformers have been here a long, long time. How do I know?" he tosses something down to us and Leo catches it. "Archeologists found these unexplained markings in ancient ruins all over the world," he says, his accent thickening for a moment. Where is he from? It kind of sounds slightly British. He gets down, taking the package from Leo and taking out a bunch of photos and an old tape recorder. "China, Egypt, Greece." At Egypt, I space out a little. Egypt. I heard something… I think. Before, from Alice; she said something about Egypt. Nothing of utmost importance, but she said there was something there.

"So, tell me; how did they end up all drawing the same thing? Aliens. And I think some of them stayed." If he means some of the ones who came to Earth many centuries ago, then he is right. Some did stay. Most stayed because they were tired of working for the Decepticons and wanted a break, some were banished for treason and some… no, Cassandra, don't go there. Don't get any ideas. It isn't like that. Don't feed yourself false hope. You made your choice: the choice to stay with the Decepticons. If it's your only way to survive, then so be it. No changing sides until your side doesn't have the upper hand anymore and until you are not entirely and one hundred percent certain the side you are on is not going to win. Then and _only_ then do you switch sides. Otherwise, you won't get a second chance.

"Robots. In disguise. Hiding here. All along," the guy says, holding up pictures.

I don't recognize a single one, but I know for sure that at least one of them is a Seeker. And wait, how did humans get photos of Decepticons? How could the Decepticons ever allow that to happen?

"Megatron said that there was another source of Energon here," Sam says questioningly.

Wait! Another source? I search my brain, looking for anything I may know of this, and find the smallest bit of conversation I overheard Starscream have with someone about 'making more Energon'.

"On Earth-"

"'On Earth," Sam confirms.

"Another source."

"Uh-hu, and that these symbols – maps – would lead me there."

"Did you talk to your Autobot friends about this?"

"No, no, no, the source is before them. Whatever the Energon source is, it predates them, it's before them."

"So it comes before them." way to state the obvious.

"Correct."

"Well then we're out of luck… unless we can talk to a Decepticon. And I'm not on speaking terms with them."

"Actually," I say, looking at Keala, who smirks because she already knows where I'm going with this, "I am." I leave the secret room, and a chill runs up my arms as they come in contact with the frigid meat locker air. I leave the deli store, taking a breath of more-or-less fresh air.

"Hey Bee, mind popping the trunk for me?" I hear a click, and the trunk opens. I get Wheely out – he is surprisingly quiet. Had I been anyone else, I'd think he fell asleep, but I know he's plotting his escape. Well, he sure as hell isn't getting it.

"Thanks," I say, getting the blowtorch and shutting the trunk, and return to the deli shop, finding Keala waiting for me. She grabs a chain that should be used to hang up one of the pigs, and we go down to the others. Setting the box on the table, I look at Keala. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be."

"This… can be a little sad," I warn, and then with one swift motion, making sure my precious fingers aren't caught up in his adorable rage fit, I unlock the box. I don't even get a chance to blink, Wheely flies out, jumping at the first person he sees: the dude what's-his-name. But Keala has way quicker reflexes than I though. Wheely doesn't get far before the chain she was holding is wrapped and secured around his neck, putting him on a leash. Serves you right, Wheely.

He starts screaming but Keala tightens the leash, and I point the blowtorch in his face.

"Hey! _Behave_," I say, making it sound like an owner training a dog.

"What is that, a Decepticon?" Sam asks, shocked.

"Affirmative," I say jokingly. Yeah, I have a strange sense of humor sometimes.

"And you're training it?"

"You can say that." I can't really say 'training' as much as 'getting my dear sweat revenge'. Wheely grabs the chain, tying to bite it open… and fails… of course.

"I spent my entire adult life combing the planet for aliens, and you carry one around in your purse like a Chihuahua," the guy says, not believing that we actually have a living Decepticon.

Well, my friend, it's all about the people you know. I didn't even technically catch this one; he came to me on his own to help me out.

"You wan' a showdown, you pubic fro-head."

I can't help it… I start laughing… _really hard_. Pubic fro-head! I have yet to hear something better! Anyway, back on track. I pull myself together, and think.

"I'm sorry," I say sweetly to Wheely, wanting to barf as I do so. I sound like I'm _seriously_ flirting with him… after he watched me in the shower! He really deserves to have a titanium baseball bat to the face. "I'm so sorry about your eye. You know but if you're a good boy,"

"Uh-hu."

"I won't torch your other eye; I won't torch it. In fact, I'll even fix the first one. I promise."

"Ok."

"Just, tell me what these symbols are. Please." Ok… maybe I over did with being angry at him. I mean, how many of us _didn't_ have a little kid walk in on us in the shower. Besides, he kind of always reminded me of a doggy or something. And still, Ravage is by far my favorite. It's truly amazing just how much I have become used to him. I've grown to love him like a real cat. I wonder what his alt. mode is… if he has one. But I digress. Wheely knees down on the table, examining the symbols that the guy has laid out.

"Oh I know that! That's the language of the Primes! I don't read it but these guys… where the frag did you find photos of these guys. _Seekers_ pal," I knew it! "Oldest of the old. Oh they been here fo' thousands o' years, lookin for somethin'. Ah don' know what, nobody tells my nothin. They'll translate those symbols for ya. And I know where to find them."

"Show us," the dude orders. Wheel 'cracks his knuckles' and turns to face a map hanging on the wall. He shoots… the equivalent of a laser pointer and several places on the map, highlighting where each is. "Closest one is in Washington," the guy says. Alright then, Washington DC, here we come.

Keala stuffs Wheely back in the box, and we leave the secret room, locking the trap door behind us. I have a bad feeling about this. Something tells me we are in serious shit. Then again, they've got Sam all over the news so we're in serious shit anyway.

**AN: so how do you like it? Good? Bad? So-so? Please tell me what you think and do keep in mind that this is only me second story, so if you can give me some constructive criticism, it would be highly appreciated. Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter. God (time of day goes here) and I will see you all next time. Bye *waves*!**


	8. Chapter 7: Choices that we make

**AN: I don't own Transformers. Enjoy!**

"Smithsonian air and space museum," I hear Simmons say with a tone of admiration and crushed hope, "It's a lands of dream in there." I take it he wanted to be an astronaut "all I ever wanned to be was to be astronaut." Guessed right. I climb over to the front seat carefully, patting it.

"Thank you for letting me sleep," I say. God was I ever tired form all that college crap. And so Bee helped me fall back to sleep after we left the meat store.

_"Anything for a friend,"_ the radio says, and my heart skips a beat painfully as I am once again reminded that the friend is Abby, and Cassandra is all alone and also that the said teenager is betraying every bit of friendship this Bot is giving her.

In the end, I am the girl who sides with the enemy and betraying every bit of trust they put in me. But my features don't falter, and I simply smile. I get out, trying to look around Simmons and Keala. I'd been here before. I must say, it's pretty darn impressive the things they got here.

Simons shuts the car door and walks around the car – we all do. We gather up, trying to think of a plan to get in. "Oh hey, after closing hours, there are only a few guards walking around. We can hide until then, and when they close, we knock them out and tie them up and stuff them in a storage closet. There is one on the first floor, in the staff room," I tell them, and they look at me as if I'd grown another head.

"How the hell do you even know that?" Sam asks me.

"Well, I'd been here once. I wanted to stay after hours to see if the exhibits come to life at night when no one is watching. So I hid in the janitor's room. But then when I was almost caught, I changed hiding places to the storage room. Then I was kind of locked in. But it's ok because the storage room is big and it had a vent and so since I was eight and small, I climbed out of the storage room through there and into the bathroom. I stayed there until morning because it was so dark the I couldn't see my hand in front of my face, and left in the morning, casually strolling behind a couple as if I'm their kid." I finish my story and we all start laughing. Yeah, I did some fucked up shit in my time. But hey, at least it made a good dinner table story.

"Sounds like a plan," Simmons says… and tears his pants off. My jaw hits the ground and I turn away. Thanks but no thanks; I do _not_ want to see that.

"What is that?"Sam asks in disgust. Oh god, please don't tell me he took his underwear off as well! That is just wrong and nasty and if you're trying out impress girls, you're failing, 'cause Keala and I are about to puke… even though my stomach is empty. And as if on cue, it growls. Great, now I'm hungry. Oh well, they have a vending machine and a hammer hanging near the fire alarm close to the exit; I can always grab some chips – no joke, I'm dead serious. I felt like I hadn't eaten in damn near three full days. You see, it was just under thirty six hours ago that I had my last breakfast back at Keala's place. Oh god, has all this happened in thirty six hours? It felt like a week!

"-It's a baseball thing," I hear Simmons say as I snap back to reality.

"Is it safe to turn around yet?" I ask. I hear some rustling and the sound of a fly being sipped.

"Yeah, you're good," Sam says, apology in his voice. I turn around seeing Simmons in a janitor outfit.

"Ok, watches synchronized, sharp mind and empty bladder!" Simmons says, though I have no idea why his volume is at shouting level when we are all standing right here. "You get caught, demand an attorney, and don't _ever_ say my name. Here, take one of these pills, slip it under your tongue," He says, tossing Sam a can of pills. He takes one and hands the can to me. I take one to, but don't put it in my mouth yet, wanting to know what they are for first. "Tricks the lie detector every time." In that case, I don't need it. I was trained to lie by the best; I've coached my body to react the way I want and that way only. I know how to keep my heart rate even when I lie, keep my facial expression absolutely believable and everything. I've been learning to lie my entire life and I've become undetectable. If I lie, no one ever knows until I tell them so or let them see the lie. "Ok, now let's get this show on the road," Simmons says, taking a hand taser out of the box. Oh, we're tasing people? Sweetness! I reach behind me, taking a taser out of my waistband, and everyone stares at me.

"What?"

"You have a taser?"

"Well, it isn't _mine_. I took it from one of the guards when we were getting off the plane. Oh don't look at me like that. We all, at one point in our lives, wanted to become professional thieves. I did too, so I learned a whole bunch of cool tricks like… picking locks with paper clips and picking pockets and so on… and then I grew up and got a brain." They all murmur in agreement and Sam looks like he just got the coolest best friend ever. I give a dumb smile and play with the taser, turning it on and off. Simmons offers the taser in his hand to Leo, who, in turn, freaks out.

"Wow! Listen! I can't do this, I'm not some alien bounty hunter!" none of us are, "I'm not gonna do this, guy, I don't wanna die-"

"-Kid, kid, kid," Simmons cuts him off, pushing him back towards Skids. "You compromise this mission; you are dead to me."

Is… _that_ supposed to be his supper cleaver threat? Because it sucks. Why should Leo care about being dead to you anyway?

.O.o.O.o.O.

I hid behind the corner, listening for the guard's footsteps as he approaches. The moment he walks past me, I press my taser to the back of his neck, successfully rendering him unconscious. Grabbing his arm, I drag him – got damn it he's fat! – to the janitor's room, take his keys, and lock him in, throwing the keys out into the trash. Ok, one down; Simmons took on two, and Leo took on one. I know for sure Simmons dealt with his share of the deal, Leo on the other hand… I run to the nearest staircase, getting down to the first floor and find the bathroom he was supposed to be in. I walk in, and bite back a laugh. Please don't tell me…

"_How_ many times can you _get_ tased in the nuts before you _can't_ have _kids_ huh? Do _you_ know?" Leo is just lying there on the floor with his pants down around his ankles, jerking from electric shock. I sigh and walk over to him, checking to see just how much electricity he'd send through himself. Two hundred and thirty volts; he'll be ok in a minute or two. As for now… we need to get him out of the bathroom. As if on cue, Simmons ruins in, with a WTF expression on his face.

"What the hell is going on here?"

"He fell on his taser," I say.

"Don't screw up," Simmons told Leo, "that's _all_ I asked of you." He sighed in defeat and then comes over and we both drag a still jerking Leo out of the bathroom. But not before I taser the guard again, knocking him out entirely. I join Sam and Keala, who are letting Wheely out of his box.

"Behave," I tell him strictly.

"I'm claustrophobic."

No you aren't; robots don't have phobias so don't feed me crap like that. I take off his leash, shooting him a look, and he holds his hands up in surrender.

"Alright, Sparcky, lead the way," I say. He glares at me and I mockingly hold my hands up n surrender.

"You promised to fix my eye! You remember that!" And then he transforms into his toy Monster Truck Alt. Mode and starts driving. While Keala and Sam follow him, I take a moment to look around the place. Just… wow. The last time I'd been here was eight years ago. And I remember how I used to come here once every year. Aircraft – and mechanics in general – have always fascinated me, given that I grew up amongst the most advanced of them. They never cease to amaze me.

I always want to learn more about them. I'm no genius inventor of Ironman level technology like Arthur, but that doesn't make me any less technology-smart… ok, it kind of does, since I don't know a quarter of what my father knows, but I still know a bit. I know everything there is to know about cars and even though I'm only borderlining eighteen, I can already fly a plane. In truth – and I think I even know why, now that I think about it – I've always had a love for the sky; my heart has always longed for flight. Starscream is a Seeker, he has a Spark for it more than anyone I have ever met; his wings mean more to him than you can imagine. Taking away his wings would be worse than taking away his life.

One time… one time, when I was still learning to fly a plane… I don't know why, I have absolutely no idea what made him so generous… but he actually took me up to teach me himself. He let me fly his Alt. Mode. And it was the most incredible flight I ever had. And I tried so hard to please him with my skills that I turned out doing better on that flight than I did on the actual test. Whatever made him let me fly his Alt. Mode, I couldn't be more grateful.

And thinking of Starscream and of all that he has done for me that he would never do for another being, especially a human… it makes me miss him so very much. How can I _not_ miss him after everything he's done for me?

I come out of my thoughts and run after Sam and Keala. It's a good thing I have excellent stamina; I don't run overly fast, but I can run for eternity without getting tired. That's why in training they'd make me run ten miles; because I can run all that and not get tired. I eventually catch up with Sam and Keala, who are coming to a stop in front of a Lockheed SR-71 Blackbird plane. Wheely transforms, standing his full one foot, six inch height.

"Oh, there he is. This guy's a _legend_! Yo! Freshmen! Point the shard, and watch the magic happen."

Sam brings the shard slowly closer to the Blackbird, and it flies to it like a magnet. The entire plane flashes blue as the left over energy of Energon in the shard is absorbed by the Cybertronian. I can truly see why Wheely called it magic. To see a being as powerful and beautiful and perfect as a Cybertronian come to life in a brilliant flash of light and energy and power is truly something amazing. Seeing this Cybertronian wake up and come to life… I don't know who it is or how old they are since Wheely had said 'oldest of the old' but whoever they are… welcome back to life. Sam, Keala, and I run underneath the plane, seeing an all too familiar mark on it.

"Oh _Shit_; it's a Decepticon!" Keala shouts in terror.

That's right, oh shit indeed. This Decepticon can kill me if he so pleases. He's been in deep stasis for god knows how long, he doesn't know the orders. I am just as much in trouble as the rest are. My eyes widen in shock and fear so I bolt for it, sliding underneath the railing and running after Simmons and Leo as the sound of heavy shifting metal fills the large space. In the quiet around us, it's incredibly loud and scarier than ever.

The sound echoes and he sounds like he's directly over me. Adrenaline quickly works its way into my system, making me alert and aware. Sam and Keala appear on either side of me and we all duck for cover underneath another plane. My heart beats fast because I know it's a terrible hiding place and if he sees me, I'm dead. I want to find a better place to hide; preferably something small and enclosed. A place where he can't see me or get to me, but then I'd be acting on training and years of learning to survive, and my secret would be out, and that would go against every instinct I have. So I don't do anything but look scared as I lay on my front, sandwiched between Sam and Leo.

"What sort of… _hideous_ mausoleum is this?" the Decepticon roars in a semi-British accent I look at him, noting that I'd never seen a Cybertronian who looks older.

Wheely rolls up to me, trying to park between me and Leo but Leo pushes him away… right into my face. My hand flies to my nose. Thanks you; I really enjoyed taking a truck to the face, _Leo_.

"Answer me! Show yourselves! Or supper my infinite wrath!" I gulp, fear taking over and every cell in my body is telling me to run and hide.

Everyone stands up and – very reluctantly – I follow, staying behind everyone and more than ready to run for it. Holding our hands in the air to show that we mean nothing at all, we slowly approach the moody Decepticon, who looks like he retired from work a _hell_ of a long time ago. But his age and the fact that he can barely even stand straight doesn't make him less dangerous one bit. Just the opposite, it makes him _more_ dangerous because he has a lot of experience in the art of killing.

"You little spinal cord-based organisms-" the Decepticon is cut off when a plane part hits him in the face. He pushes it away and it falls off the cords it has been attached to, falling to the ground and rolling in a circle. That… that looked painful.

"Bugger it!" he spits. "Behold! The eternal glory of _Jetfire_!"

So, Jetfire is his name. I'd never heard of him before. But… Wheely said he's a legend… if he was a Decepticon, shouldn't he have killed us by now… maybe he's one of those who… *mental slap*. _No_, do _not_ think about that. Thinking about it will give you ideas and that will lead to no good at all.

"My god," Wheely says, "that guy does _not_ age well."

Yeah, he doesn't. But it doesn't make him any less dangerous. His age gives him experience.

"I don't think he's gonna hurt us," I hear Keala say.

Ok… just this once, I think I might agree with her a little. If you think logically about it, if he was gonna hurt us, he would have already done so; so maybe he doesn't want to kill us. But I'm not letting my guard down. Something goes wrong; you're all on your own guys. My attention is drawn back to Jetfire, who is now standing in front of the loading doors. Oh god…

"I command these doors to open!" he shouts.

I cover my ears as his shout echoes.

"Fire!" nothing happens. What is he trying to accomplish, exactly? "I said _fire_!" a missile is shot out of his arm… backwards.

I duck to the ground as it flies too close for comfort. That seriously shouldn't happen; he needs a trip to a mechanic… _urgently_; otherwise he's gonna end up hurting himself more.

"Damn these worthless _parts_!" he shouts, punching the doors open.

Wow, the museum workers aren't going to be very happy with him.

"Wait a second!" Sam shouts, running after him.

Great plan; run after an annoyed Decepticon. It's like diving into a grave; great plan. We run after him through the field of plans, Simmons saying what I'd just thought about the museum workers being pissed. I turn around to see Bee, Skids, and Mudflap driving after us. A wave of sadness washes over me. Damn these stupid-ass emotions getting the best of me! I need to keep a sharp mind! I can't go around feeling guilty about everything! I'm doing what I need to do to stay safe, and if betrayal is one of those things, then so be it! I need to snap out of it and stop being so mopey! What is this? Guilt? Since when do I feel guilt? No, none of that!

Sam starts arguing with Jet fire about hearing him out and I take a moment to put my sense of self control back under control. I can't go around feeling guilty. Emotions get in the way of me doing my job. When I do a job, there are no emotions involved. And this time is no exception

"I have no time to talk, I'm on a mission!" Jetfire roars, "I'm a mercenary doom bringer! What planet am I on?"

Wow, hold up, he doesn't even know what planet this is? Just how many planets are there out there with spinal cord-based living beings anyway?

"Earth," Sam answers.

"Earth? _Terrible_ name. Might as well call it _Dirt_; planet _Dirt_." Well… I guess he's got a point. "Tell me, is that robot Civil War still going on? Who's winning?!"

"The Decepticons," I tell him.

"Argh!" Jetfire spits, "And I changed sides to the Autobots."

I manage not to intake a breath at what he says. He _is_ one of those; a traitor, a Decepticon turned Autobot. He made a choice of who to follow… he chose freedom. I can't believe how jealous I've just become of him. He was able to do what I will never have the guts for. He switched sides, not because the Autobots were winning, but because he just didn't want to be a Decepticon. If I ever switch sides – which I won't because I'm not allowed to – I will only change sides when it's obvious the Autobots are gonna win. If I change sides and the Decepticons win, they will kill me. If you want to survive, you only side with the winners. But I still feel jealous of him because he was allowed to make a choice.

"What do you mean 'changed sides'?" Sam asks skeptically.

Well, it makes sense now that he was a legend, yet I'd never heard of him: he was a traitor and his choice of freedom may have had an effect on my loyalty. And then I think back to all those things the Decepticons had done for me; they taught me to survive, they've trained me into being able to make it out on my own under any given circumstances. They gave me a home and anything a person can want. I have so much and it's all thanks to them. No, under no circumstances will I ever betray them. They gave me everything, and I will never go against them. Even if it puts my very own life in the map, I will never betray them. How can you betray someone who has given you more than your own father ever did?

After all the time and energy they've spent on me – a useless human – how can I not be loyal to them? They've given me everything my father never gave me. He once told me he loved me, but if he really did, he would fight to his death to keep me out of this world; the world of secrets and lies, but he didn't. He let me be brutally trained and severely beaten every time I messed up. He let them use me as a punching bag every time they wanted to entertain themselves. He did nothing to stop them or to help me. But all of what they've done… it made me strong; it taught me how to best survive. They made me into something more than your average twelfth-grader. They made me a spy and thief, they made me like a cockroach: impossible to kill. And for that, I will always stand by them. They gave me – in a messed up way – a family of sorts; the family I never had, and how can you betray the very ones who have raised you to be strong and smart? You can't.

"It's a choice; and intensely personal decision," Jetfire says, answering Sam question, "So much negativity. Who wants to live a life filled with hate?"

"You mean you don't have to work for those miserable frikin Decepticons?" Wheely asks, joining the conversation.

He isn't a good actor, and I see that he truly is curious about it. He doesn't particularly enjoy serving the Cons. Oh great, another fighter for freedom. Just what we need. His voice let's through a tone of hope. Great, he wants to be free too. Is everyone around me going to switch sides and I'll be the only one in the group still loyal to the Decepticons? Because if so, then it's just going to make me feel even worse about the whole thing.

"If the Decepticons had their way, they'd destroy the whole universe."

That's not true. All Starscream ever wanted was to save his planet and go home. He told me stories sometime, about how beautiful Cybertron used to be before the Cybertronian race split up and started fighting. All he wanted was to make it beautiful and alive again. But that hope was lost of ever and now they have nowhere to go.

"I'm change sides!" Wheely says, rolling up to me, and falling. He crawls up to my foot, mumbling "I'm changing sides to Warrior Goddess."

Great, now he wants to be an Autobot. How do I know? Simple: I was Abby when he gave me the nick name, and I'm Abby now, and Abby isn't with the Decepticons. Had I been Cassandra, he'd be saying he's staying with the Decepticons. But right now, I'm Abby, so he's changing sides to the Autobots. I hold back the tears that I feel as they make my throat thick. He's free. He is free and I will never be given a choice; I will forever remain their little human pet and slave. I will never make my own choices in life, I will never be free to do anything normal humans do; I will never be free.

But how can I, if I have chosen them. I chose the Decepticons, didn't I? I made the choice to be with them no matter what. And then I just want to sit down and cry because everything is just so confusing and I can't even decide between freedom and family. Without them, I'm nothing; with them, I have no future. How can I ever choose between family and freedom? It's so unfair! I shouldn't be forced to choose like that!

Besides, I've never made the big decisions, how can I start making them now? I did what I was told; the deciding was never up to me! How can I ever make a decision that big?! It isn't fair!

Wheely starts… I'm not even kidding here… _humping_ my leg, just like a dog. Ew, shoot him before he embarrasses me further. I don't want to feel him doing my leg. But no matter how much it grosses me out, I don't have the heart to push him away. He's chosen freedom and…

God; what am I going to do? It's never been this confusing before. The contradicting feelings that are fighting inside me are too overwhelming for me. How can I ever do this when everything I decide on, I end up questioning?

"What are you allowing to happen to your leg?" Sam asks in disgust. I shrug at him.

"You let Mojo hump _your_ leg."

"Did you just compare him to my dog?"

"At least he is now on our side."

"The name's Wheely," Wheely says, introducing himself more to the others than to me… if he knows who I am yet… of course he does. He knows perfectly well who I am, but he still trusts me enough to change sides directly in front of me. He chose freedom and I have no right to take that freedom away from him; so I will not betray his trust by reporting him.

Sam kicks him away, scolding him. I space out, continuing to mentally rant on while Jetfire is talking to the others. I don't pay much attention to anything at all,, completely forgetting where I am until Sam yanks me to him and I look around to see Jetfire opening a spacebridge. Oh fuck; Skywrap spacebridged me once and it isn't an experience I want to go through again no waitwaitwait _I'mnotready_!

"Stay still or you'll die!" Jetfire shouts. No! Wait! Not again!

But it was too late. The world began to spin out of control and I felt as if I was being torn apart particle from particle – which technically I was – and everything flashed in horrible, dizzying flashes of light.

**AN: so that's a chapter for you. We get deeper into Cassie's/Abby's head, taking a deeper look at her world. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please leave reviews because they inspire me to write faster *hint, hint*. Anyway, that's about it, forgive the spelling mistakes please, and I will see you all next time!**


	9. Chapter 8: The Fallen

**AN: here is another chapter. *IMPORTANT AN AT THE END. PLEASE REED!***

**Oh my god! Two chapters in one day! I actually finished writing both chapters three days ago and just didn't want to wait o whole day before updating again. Anyway, remember important AN at the end; enjoy!**

I let out a painful shout as my back my back hits the scorching sand. All air is knocked right out of my lungs and pain shoots through my entire body. I lay motionless, trying to remember how to breathe. I. Freaking. Hate. Spacebridges.

I gasp up for air, taking in as much as possible and force my body to roll to the side, flipping myself to my stomach. I groan in pain, shielding my eyes from the sun. Where in the hell did he take us and _why_? I look up to see Wheely getting up not far from me. Unless he was holding on to me, he should have been flung the other way and ended up far, far away. I get up, brushing the sand off of me, and crouch down in front of him.

"Hey, Cassandra, long time, no see, how've you been?"

"Oh you know, here and there; spying, lying, betraying, the usual."

"Ya ain't too happy 'bout that, are ya?"

"I just wish it didn't have to be so confusing. On the one hand you've got the Decepticons, who are the only family I've ever known, and on the other, you've got Sam and Keala, the only people I can truly call friends… but they are friends with Abby. Whichever way you spin this, no matter what I do, I end up betraying someone. And why am I telling you this anyway?"

"Wachu gonna do?" he asks.

I sigh. "I honestly don't know. Keep up the act until further instruction, I guess. I don't know what _else_ I can do now. And hey, I already know the answer, but I still want to hear it. You changed sides to Warrior Goddess… Warrior Goddess is two people."

"Warrior Goddess is Abby."

"Autobot?" I ask him.

"Guess you can say that," Wheely confirms with a nod. "What 'bout you, eh?"

"I don't know, Wheely; I really don't know." I sigh, standing up. "Well, let's find the others. I fucking hate Spacebridges. Never again am I using one, I don't care how fast and far it takes you. For all I know, given how damaged Jetfire is, we may not given be on Earth anymore." What? Cybertronians exist; why not other planets with good atmosphere? But then I look around, recognizing the mountains and the suns position in the sky and pin point us to be in Egypt. Why the hell are we in Egypt?

I hear Sam's shouting and turn around, my eyes finding him and a running Keala far away. I jump up and down a few times, waving my arms and shouting to let them know where I was, then I pick up Wheely and run to them – tires aren't as fast on sand as they are on solid ground, so here he's a lot slower. I get to Sam first but I am very shortly joined by Keala. I look down at Sam's hand and cover my mouth. Sam got his hand burned pretty badly.

"Oh my god Sam! How much does it hurt? We need to get this taken care of right now! Keala!"

Keala takes off her top, leaving her in only a tank top – not that she will get too cold out here – and tears it like a badass, turning it into scrap fabric. I help her bandage up Sam's hand as best we could, and we all run to the rocks where Jetfire and Simmons were already waiting. We sit down and I redo the bandages, making them almost neat and safe.

"Thank you," Sam says, looking over his hand, and wincing slightly. Ya, when Skywrap transported me using a Spacebridge, I was in a similar situation, and _fuck_ did it hurt!

"Oh _shut up_," Jetfire tells Simmons, silencing his complaining, "I told you I was opening a Spacebridge, it the fastest way to travel to Egypt-"

"-What?" Sam cuts in, "What did you-what did you tell us; you didn't tell us anything!"

That's right, he didn't, and Sam could have lost his fingers because of Jetfire.

"You could have hurt someone!" Sam shouts up to him. "You didn't tell us a_nything_! Why are we in Egypt?!"

"_Don't you_ get snippy with me, fleshling! You were fully informed," Jetfire says as he sits down on the rocks.

"Could you stop for a second? Can you focus-can you tell us you we're in Egypt so we can all have a little bit of semblance; some peace of mind?" Sam says, raising his voice in frustration.

When did he become like this? The Sam I knew was the weird kid in school. He got nervous when he was presenting something in class, he talked too much when he was scared, and he babbled every time he knew he was in trouble for something.

But the Sam I was near to for the past three days was a very different Sam. He was on top of things, taking charge, planning things out, thinking of a way to fix things, and taking on responsibility that no person in the right mind ever would. When did he go from the school nerd with the hot car, to a guy on the run for dear life and still looking after two other people and taking charge like this? When did he suddenly become a responsible, fully aware adult, but did things even adults would have a mental breakdown from?

"This planet was visited by our race once before," Jetfire says, "by our earliest Ancestors eons ago. They were on exploratory mission to harvest Energon; the _life force_ of our race. Without it, we'll all perish; oxidize and rust like my own wretched self! Do you have any idea what it's like to slowly fall apart and die?!"

"Can we cut the drama and get to the point so we could all get out of here," I say in annoyance. And much as he may be old and I must respect him, I really don't want to have to listen to the story of his life.

"Somewhere, buried deep in this desert our ancestors built a great machine. It harvests Energon by destroying suns."

Wow, wouldn't _ever_ want that thing turned on. And if it makes Energon by making the sun go BOOM, then _damn_ is it advanced.

"Destroy suns?" Sam asks.

"You mean blow 'em up?" Leo cuts in, sounding slightly scared.

"Yes. You see in the beginning, there were seven Primes; our original leaders. And they set out into the universe, seeking different suns to harvest. The Primes set out with one rule: _never_ destroy a planet with life. Until one of them tried to defy this rule, and his name, forever more was 'The Fallen'."

Jetfire says his name in a way the sends a nasty shiver down my back. Wait, there were the original Primes and they didn't kill living beings, until The Fallen did. He was the first to want to destroy a planet with sentient life. Does that make him the original Decepticon?

Jetfire shines a holographic projecting, showing a semi-large projection of a Decepticon with red optics glowing with so much spite and absolute hate that it sends the worst of shivers down my back, raising goose bumps on my flesh in the hot desert weather. His optics seemed to be burning into us with so much revulsion that whatever amount of fear I had when Megatron's gaze swept over me was turned to shame. Even as a holographic projection, just the sight of him scared me; really, truly scared me.

"He _despised_ the human race, and he wanted to kill you all by turning on _that_ machine." The projection showed The Fallen, looking back at a huge Machine. "The only way to activate it is with a legendary key called The Matrix of Leadership." The projection switched to a… something. And the something was absolute beautiful. Something about it radiated power and respect. It was about the size of a football and had a beautiful blue glow in the center of it. It must be The Matrix of Leadership. But the holograph changed again, showing a brutal battlefield.

"A great battle took place over possession of the Matrix. The Fallen was stronger than his brothers, so they had no choice but to steal and hide it from him. In the ultimate sacrifice, they gave their lives to seal the Matrix away in a tomb made of their very own bodies. A tomb we cannot find." They killed themselves to hide the Matrix? Well that was dumb. Then again, they are robots, and robots don't have instincts because if they did, they would be opposing every instinct of survival they had. Why would you want to die for a race like ours anyway? No, scratch that; why would you want to die for _anyone_? It's just dumb. Clearly they were trying to be heroes. Well, their sacrifice wasn't heroic, it was tragic. I know I'd never die for anyone. You are only ever supposed to look after yourself.

"Somewhere," Jetfire continues, "buried in _this_ desert that _deadly_ machine remains. The Fallen knows where it is and if he finds the tomb of the Primes, your world will be no more." This guy has a thing for over-dramatizing.

"Ok so how do we stop 'im?" Keala asks.

Whoa, whoa, whoa… stop him? No, no, no, that's stupid; it's suicide!

"Only a Prime can defeat The Fallen," Jetfire says.

Yup, and last I checked, the Prime was dead and Sam was stupidly blaming himself for it.

"You mean like… like Optimus Prim?" there we go.

Jetfire bends down to near eye-level with Sam in a way that resembles a snake – it's totally creepy – and I take a few safe steps back.

"So _you've_ met a Prime?" he asks in surprise, "you must have met a great descendant. Is he alive? Here; on this planet?" he asks, his voice showing hope and amazement and admiration.

What is wrong with all of these guys? Every time someone mentions that Optimus guy dying everyone acts as if it's the end of the fucking world! I mean come on! It wasn't _that_ big of a loss!

"He sacrificed himself to save me," Sam says, no, he didn't. He was probably just too weak for Megatron and lost the fight and to be remembered as someone great, made it look like he died in a great self-sacrifice.

"So he's dead." Way to state the obvious, Jetfire. "Without a Prime it's impossible." Aw come on! You all make him into someone all great, mighty, and awesome! What about all those innocent lives that were lost because of him? Did you forget Mission City already? I wasn't there, but I heard plenty from Starscream. They tried to hide the Allspark in the middle of a populated city! And then, when Optimus couldn't defeat Megatron, he would rather see it destroyed. Megatron missed his home planet and wanted to return it to its glory, power, and beauty. But nooo, Optimus wouldn't have that. He'd rather die with it than use it to save his home. "No one else can stop The Fallen."

"So, the same energy is gonna be used to activate the machine… can that same energy be used to somehow reactivate Optimus and bring him back to life?"

Oh great, just what I need… _not_!

"It was never designed for that purpose. But it's energy like no other."

"So then how do you get us to the Matrix before the Decepticons get to me?"

"Follow your mind; your map; the symbols. What you carved in the sand, it's your clue: when dawn alights the dagger's tip, three kings will reveal the doorway. Find the doorway! Go now! Go! That was my mission; it's your mission now! Go before the Decepticons find me… and find you!" he orders and we run down the rocks. I turn around for a second, and regret it. His face is just downright creepy! And he needs to do something about his love for drama.

I catch up with the rest and we run to the Autobots. "Well," I say, "at least we know where to go." They all stop and look at me as if I'd grown an extra arm. "Well… you know what he was talking about, right?"

They shake their heads. I groan. "Ok well, I was always outstanding in geography and riddles so… "When dawn alights the dagger's tip'. Dawn; time of day; sun rising sun. Dagger's Tip; the ancient Sumerians used to call the Gulf of Agaba The Dagger's Tip. It divides Egypt and Jordan like a blade's tip. I'll explain the rest in the car, right now we gotta go," I say, and we run to the cars.

We drive through the desert and I search my head for anything other than what I already know off the top of my head, but find nothing.

"So? What next?" Simmons asks.

"Well, next we have the three kings will reveal the doorway'. We're talking Egypt and Jordan. But the tomb is in Egypt. When you hear three and Egypt, you think the Pyramids of Giza. The pyramids were built to mirror what they used to call Three Kings; three stars: Zeta, Epsilon, and Delta, aka Orion's Belt. Which means we need to go to the pyramids and at dawn, the stars will be just over the horizon, pointing at… argh, come one… oh! Right! At the Mountains of Petra… though where exactly in them, I have no idea."

"You have no idea just how stupid we all feel right now, especially me, since I'm in my late forties and I know very little of that," Simmons says in a shocked tone.

Yeah well, the stars were something I always knew – for obvious reasons – and I knew geography very well because I'd traveled all over the world. With the money I have, I own an airline.

Well, Pyramids of Giza, here I come… again.

**AN: Just an explanation her situation here; her road to fully and absolutely trusting the Autobots is gonna be a bit rocky. She's been told a lot of things about them that she can't just ignore, and trusting someone fully and absolutely isn't as easy as one would think for her. From when she was a child she's been learning to survive at any costs and under any circumstances and trusting people like that puts her at risk of being betrayed and killed. Also, the Decepticons have been on her life for her ****_entire_**** life. They've been in it for nearly eighteen years so she can't just forget it all and move on to the good guys. That's what I think makes her so unique from the other Autobot stories I've read; that after having them be in her life more than her own father, she's grown to love the 'Cons and can't just turn around and forget that. She knows the 'Cons are bad, but over eighteen years, they've become her own kind of family. So don't expect her to switch sides like it's no big deal and turn her back on the 'Cons like the last eighteen years never happened. Just a warning, so please don't stop reading just because you don't like Decepticons. I want to make this Autobot-based story different form the others and I personal really enjoy writing it, and writing Cassandra and her view of the world.**


	10. Chapter 9: love and hate

**AN: why does no one review?! Please, if you like it, well, I like compliments, and if you don't like it… then tell me so I could fix it! If the story isn't good, I need to know so I can make it better! Please, please, please! Leave some feedback!**

**Onwards. Here is another chapter so enjoy!**

"Ok, first thing we gotta do is get Optimus to Dagger's Tip," Sam says, taking charge of the situation again.

"How are we gonna get him half way around the world?" Leo asks.

"We're gonna make a call."

"Call who, Sam?"

"Uh… Abby, you remember Will? Ya, he's a soldier who works for this secret organization the Autobots work with. That's who we're gonna call" ok, well, I already knew the 'work with Autobots' part. But…

"Sam, we can't call, you-COPS!" I shout. Shit; cops is just what we need. Bee speeds up, passing them, and we drive into the nearby town, maneuvering in between streets, trying to lose them. "Bee, we can't get them off our tails here. The streets are too crowded, they're going to catch up… stop and let us out; we can hide better that way," I tell Bee. He turns another few corners, and jerks to a stop. We get out as fast as we can, getting off the streets.

We end up hiding on the roof of one building that is built right up next to another. Keala and I steal some local woman's headwear, and wrap it around our heads – which limits my sight and hearing, making me vulnerable, and I don't like it one bit. Bee and the twins transform, hanging off the roof of the taller building. I shoot a glance at them, seeing Mudflap and Bee holding on to the roof and Bee is holding Skids dangling upside down by his ankle. I can't help but chuckle at him.

"Stupid cops," Skids mumbles, hanging upside down.

"Dis is wat's called blendin' in like a ninja," Mudflap says, and I chuckle again. Oh ya, you, a red robot, blend in on a light tan wall of a building; a ninja you are alright. I take my headwear off, taking a breath of fresh air. That thing stinks really bad.

"They're gone," Keala whispers to the rest. We join Sam, Leo, and Simmons.

"I gotta make a call-"

"No Sam, you can't," I say, cutting him off.

"Why not?" he asks me, looking confused.

"Because you are at the top of the World Wide Wanted list. You say a single word on the phone and they'll track you down to hear in seconds. You can't make a call; _I_ can make the call. They have a picture of both Leo and Keala, but not me, and Will knows me. I can call," I tell him. He nods. We find a telephone… but thanks to our luck, we got no money. We're screwed… or not. "Wait here a second." I walk over to a man, putting on a flirtatious smile.

"_Excuse me,_" I say in Arabic, "_I have to make a call to a friend of mine. But I don't have local money. Here, can you exchange a dollar?_" I ask, taking a dollar from my shoe – I always have some spare change with me, just in case.

_"Of course,_" the man says, taking out his wallet. He gets some money out of it, handing it to me. I give him the dollar bill, counting the amount of money he gave me.

"_Thank you,_" I say with a bright smile, batting my eyelashes a little. The return to the others.

"What was that about?" Sam asks me.

"That, my friend, was my using my astounding looks to get what I want. I mean if you don't like it, I could have just used my pick-pocket skills and lifted a wallet or two…"

"No, let's stick with flirting," he says, taking the money and dialing the phone. Then he hands it to me. I wait several long beeps before someone finally picks up.

"Hello? Who is this?" he asks.

"I wish to speak to William Lennox. This is his niece. It's urgent."

"How urgent?"

"I don't know how to tell my parents that I'm pregnant and I need his help." There is an awkward silence and some rustling. I wait of just under a minute before I hear "Major Lennox, this is you uh… niece…" the man says in a very awkward tone. I cover my mouth to keep from laughing. Pregnant; this is the best excuse I've come up with yet! Hurray for me!

"Hello…?"

"Will? Hey this is… this is Abby."

"Abby? How did you get this phone number?"

"Uh… give me a moment?" I turn to Sam. "Code name?"

"Try…" he whispers, scratching his head, "try Ladiesman217."

I nod, and bring the phone back up to my mouth. "I'm with Ladiesman217 and… uh… hot brunet mechanic. We are… hold on…" I say, thinking of a code to use. "We are in… code… ok so, we've got sand, we've got camels, and we've got mummies. We need… uh… guys, what code can I use for the big guy…?" they all stare at me, shaking their heads. "Come on! I've never even seen him before, how can I describe him?! Oh! I got it! Ok, Will, sorry… we need… code: seven is a prime number. Drop coordinates… Simmons, give me that thing. Ok, drop coordinates are… 28.6N, 34.6E. Be there." Just then, some dude comes running to us in one of those headwear thins… the ones that are for woman. "I gotta go." Just as I was about to hang up, the phone crashed down. I jump three feet in the air, letting out a slight shriek. I turn the rest – than the dude, who turned out to be Leo – all wearing a dumbfound expression.

"Pregnant niece?" Sam asks.

"As if you could come up with a better way to get a top secret organization solder to put me on the phone with another secret organization solder."

"Ok, well what about… what the heck is 'seven is a prime number'? Oh and, since when do you speak Arabic?"

"Ok, well, I learned Arabic a while ago when I was on a school trip to here-" lie, "-and as for the code, well, Optimus is O-P-T-I-M-U-S, right? Seven letters. And seven is a prime number so… seven is Optimus and prime is Prime."

"Wow," they all say in unison.

"Ok well, what are we waiting for? Let's go." Just then, I hear the sirens again, and we run. Sam runs next to me, giving me a look.

"Damn you're smart," he says.

"Thanks. You aren't stupid either. What happened to that awkward kid I used to know a week ago?"

"Guess I grew up."

"When did that happen?"

"About the same time as you did. You are definitely not the same airheaded blonde you let everyone believe you are a week ago. You're pretty badass." There is something about his tone I can't decipher. But I will care about that later. Right now, we need to get to the 'Bots and get out of here.

XxXxX

"Oh shit, checkpoint," Leo says, starting to panic slightly. Great, just what we need. We drive up, pulling to a stop and I look around. "Shit, Sam there's a camera, don't look out the window," I say. One of the solders shouts something, coming down for his little booth. Aaand he's a midget.

"Aright, chill," Simmons mutter, trying to look casual, "I can handle them, these are my people. I'm one thirty-sixth Arab." Ya, one to thirty six doesn't make them 'your people'.

"Ah, great, a fraggin' munchkin," Wheely says, leaning between the two front seats. "Little people are mean, tell 'im he's tall."

"Wheely, get back here," I say, dragging him to the back and pushing him to the floor. "Stay, and be quiet," I say. That last thing we need is for them to see Wheely. The short guy comes up to our car and I just want to slap him senseless when he drags his dirty finger over Bee as if to say 'ya, I do what I want. This is _my_ car'. I grit my teeth in disgust at his attitude.

"_We are looking for… _The Dagger's… Tip **(AN: I don't actually know what Simmons said, so I just guessed.)**" Simmons says, making a point with his hands, "Egypt, Jordan we wanna go there… he is my family, this is my family," he says, outing his arm around Sam. "This is my Son, my other Son, my daughter, and my…" I can't pass as a daughter.

"_His girlfriend,_" I say in Arabic. "_I'm his girlfriend_," I say with a loving smile, and to prove my point, lean in between the two front seats and plant a gentle kiss on his lips, making it look believable. "_We are tourists. We're looking for Dagger's Tip. We're from new York._"

"New York!" the man says, his face lighting up. Looks like a stuck the right cord. "Fifty Kilometer!" he says, pointing up ahead.

"_Thank you! Thank you so much! May Allah be with you!_" and with that, we drive on.

"Go Yankees!" the man shouts behind us. As soon as he's out of earshot, I glare at a daydreaming Simmons. I whip my mouth, gritting my teeth.

"You owe me; _big time_," I say, "And wipe that Cheshire grin of your face," I snarl.

"Wow, I really wish I was the one in the passenger seat," Leo mumbles, and after all this time of holding back so many slaps at people, I _finally_ allow my hand to fly in front of my face, and grin at the satisfying sound it makes when in comes in contact with his face. "I dare you to say that again," I spit, my eyes ablaze. I wouldn't be surprised if they were glowing red right them. I need to go boil my lips. Oops, did I say that out loud?

XxXxX

Oh the Pyramids of Giza; long time, no see, how've you been? I was here five years ago. We enter the abandoned building. The Autobots transform into their car forms, going on patrol. "Low profile, don't make a scene," Sam warns, following after us.

"Some of us got work to do!" Wheely shouts, and then quietly adds "dumb Autobots." I snort as he shuts the door and we follow the rest. It's still the afternoon, so we have plenty of time… to do nothing. Everyone settled down, while I walk around the place, looking for a place to crash. It's a half hour before I decide on a room, get in, and shut the door. It's empty aside from an old-ass bed. This place used to be a small hotel a decade or so ago. Then it was shut down dude to funding problems. I look around, a memory flashing into my mind. I walk over to the old rag for a carpet, moving it away to reveal floorboards. On one, I find what I am looking for: a tiny, gently carved picture of what is supposed to be a jet plane. I lift it, revealing a small box hiding underneath. Tears fill my eyes as I reach for it, taking it out of its dust-filled nest. I brush of the dust, opening it. Inside is my most prized position.

_It will keep you safe_

Starscream gave it to me. When I was seven, I was explaining to him the concept of birthdays and why they were celebrated. He didn't understand still, and something about his lack of understanding and the look on his face when I was telling him hoe every year humans got one year older and celebrated another year of living made me think about the concept, questioning it myself. When I tried again to explain to him when I was sixteen, he said something that changed my entire understanding of birthdays.

_Why do you celebrate the fact that every year, you come closer to death? Do you realize that when you turn eighteen, you won't be a sparkling anymore? Don't you understand that it will be so much easier for me to kill you then? Why do you celebrate coming closer to death?_

I hated birthdays since then. But not for the right reason. I hated them because I knew the dying meant I will never see any of the Decepticons again, and I couldn't stand the idea. There were a lot of them that I hated, but there was one that – and it's wrong and I know it – but there was one that I loved.

Starscream gave me this when I was eleven; on my birthday, just to see what it was like; to try to understand why you are given fifths on your birthday. The tears spill over. It's a tracker that is activated through touch. I single touch and I will turn it on and Starscream will know exactly where I am. He said only to use it in time of desperate need.

It's a necklace; a fragile silver chain. Hanging on it is the Decepticon symbol. The symbol that looks like the face of a crow; the symbol I grew to love. Small and delicate, yet unbreakable. It's made of a metal found nowhere on Earth. And on the back is an entrapment in Cybertronian. My name. Cassandra.

I hid it here five years ago, I don't know why

I reach for it, my trembling hand hovering just over it, as tears run down my face in a steady stream. I don't even know why I'm crying! It's so fucking stupid! I have no reason to cry!

But I do; because I miss him. I miss Starscream so much. So. Fragging. Much! He's been there for me more than anyone _ever_. He's been the only family I ever knew and I loved him and missed him so much it hurt! How can I love someone who treats me like nothing? How can I love someone who is waiting for my next birthday so that he could kill me and not feel the slightest bit of a pathetic excuse for guilt? How can I love an abusive master and owner? I'm a pet to him! He treats me poorly; he lets everyone pick on me and beat me up and use me as a stress reliever! How can I love someone like that?!

I close the damn box and through it at the wall with all the might I have, wanting to scream in utter _hatred_! I don't want to love him! I don't want to want to be loyal to him! He's been so bad to me I can't even put it to words! He's been cruel and horrible and when he held me, I felt like a was a dog, being petted by an abusive owner right before the owner puts out his cigarette – I saw it once in a movie – on my skin! I can't love him! I _shouldn't_ love him and be loyal to him! I want to hate him with everything I have!

But I can't. No matter how much of the bad I remember, I also remember the good. I remember how proud I felt when he was the only one who praised me, saying I did well. No one ever said that to me except for him, and when he said that, I felt like I was on top of the world; I felt like a could do absolutely anything. I remember how he actually killed a Decepticon for trying to step on me and kill me. I remember how he was angry at Ravage for killing my dog. I really wanted to cry the, but didn't. But still, Ravage got heck for it. And when they went too far in training, they would get one hell of a scolding from him. I remember how he took me out to fly! It was the best feeling in the world. And even if he ever said that he wanted me dead; that he wanted to kill me himself, still, hearing him say I did well at something overshadowed everything and I forgave him without thinking twice. I wanted so much to make him proud of me. I wanted him to see that I can be just as ruthless and calculating as a true Decepticon and when others got hurt, I showed no emotion. One time, I saw a cat plating with a butterfly. The cat injured it and was teasing it, letting it think it had a chance to get away and when the butterfly almost reached her destination all of her hopes and dreams were crushed. It went on for a while until I got tired. So I kicked the cat onto the road and it was hit by a car, and then I picked up the butterfly and tore its wing. Then I found an anthill nearby and tossed it to the ants. I watched them carry her away into their nest. I was twelve then. Starscream saw the whole thing, and when I came up to him, he was grinning down at me. I felt so victorious. And then I thought of how the cat was playing with the butterfly and the butterfly was just like me and the cat was just like a Decepticon. And after watching the show, Starscream started teaching me not just how to get out of a situation like that, but to not get caught in it in the first place. He taught me how to outsmart the cat and make it so that the butterfly is playing with and teasing the cat instead of the other way around. He taught me how to best survive. And I can't ever ignore that. I know that in his own, twisted way, he cares about me.

I stand up and pick the box up off the floor, checking for damage. Then plop down on the bed, and drift off. Where are you, Starscream? I miss you.

**AN: good? Bad? How is it? What do you think? Remember, if you hate the Decepticon, bear with me for a little while. They are going to go away - somewhat - soon. Just hand on. I personally don't really like Decepticons that much, but I want to develop Cassandra beyond just a character. She's a person with thoughts and feelings and her world is in chaos tight now. Nothing makes sense and she is being torn between two very different truths and realities. On the one hand you have those she believes to be family, telling her one thing, and on the other hand you have her best friend, telling her something completely different. But even if Sam is her best friend, she still can't just ignore what she has been taught all her life.**

**So tell me, am I doing a good job developing her as a character? Or am I boring you?**

**Again, forgive ant spelling errors, I hope you liked the chapter; tell me what you think of it *puppy face* and I will see you all next time. Bye!**


	11. Chapter 10: Because I Believe

**AN: I don't own transformers. please forgive any spelling errors.**

I didn't even notice it when I drifted off into unconsciousness. The only thing that alerted me to my sleep was when I heard a soft voice, and a hand shaking my shoulder gently. I blink my eyes open, finding the room dark. "Abby," the voice whispers softly, "Abby, wake up, please. Abby?"

"Sam?" I mumble sleepily. "What…?" the room drifts into focus and my vision adjusts to the darkness. I see Sam, worry clear on his face. "Sam? What happened?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing. Are you ok? You were crying in your sleep."

"Ha… what…?" I breathe, my hand coming up to my cheek, my fingers becoming wet. I cry in sleep? I sigh, relaxing back into the acutely uncomfortable mattress.

"Are you ok? No wait, that's s dumb question; of course you aren't. If you were, you wouldn't be crying… I'm… I'm sorry, Abby, you should be here. I'm sorry I pulled you into this. This is my world, no yours. You didn't deserve something like this. You should be at home, having a normal life, not running from the cops for dear life. I'm so, so sorry. I wish you weren't stuck here with us…" he rambles on and on, mumbling and stuttering. I reach up and pull him down to me onto a hug.

"Hey…it isn't your fault, Sam." I was in this world since the day I was born. Trust me; this isn't anything I can't handle… I think. I just wish it weren't all so confusing. "None of this is your fault. You know, I didn't have to go with you to find 'Robowarrior', I chose to. I chose to go with you, so right now… right now I'm here because of _me_. It was my choice, and believe me, as frightening and confusing this all is, as afraid as I am right now, as worried that we will be killed, I don't regret making that choice. I might be scared and confused and sometime I want to curl into a ball and go to sleep and wake up at home, in my bed… given a chance, I wouldn't change my mind. I would still choose to go with you." And now it was me the one to ramble on, saying things I shouldn't say; saying things and not even knowing _why_ I say them. But everything I say is true. I could have very well gone home. No one would blame me. But I didn't; instead, I chose to stay with them, maybe it was because subconsciously I longed for the freedom, or because I felt like o owed them that, or maybe it was because I wanted to, for once, on the road, but I wouldn't be on the road alone. I would be with my first true best friend. The first human to ever make a difference in my life; the first one to make me feel something other than the obligation to get a job done. The only human I have befriended not just for show, but I real life as well. The first human to listen to me; the only one to whom I can tell a secret and know it will be kept.

The first person in my whole life to make me feel guilty about something; the first person to make me feel _anything at all_.

"Sam, I chose to come with you and as much as it flipped my entire world upside down, I wouldn't take that decision back; ever. Because… because of that decision, I saw that there is so much more out there; there is so much more to the universe that what I had originally though. And as… hard as it is for me right now, to be here, in Egypt, surrounded be alien makeshift cars…" as much as it threw everything I thought I knew into chaos, and flipped my entire reality, "… coming with you is the best choice I ever made."

I feel his hold on me tighten in a strange way and feel him smile into my shoulder. "You… Abby, you have _no idea_ how much that means to me. Thank you for… for being there for me, and for… for wanting to stay with me even if it puts you in so much… so much danger. I'm sorry that it does… I mean… I wish you were safe and at home and ok but… you have no idea how much it means to me that you chose to come along…" he pulls away and I see tears running down his face. Wait, is he… crying? "Let's go…t he sun is coming up," he say. He stands up, reaching down to help me off the bed. The moment I move, pain shoots through me. Damn was the mattress uncomfortable! I feel like I'd been sleeping on a stone floor!

We come out on the roof, where the rest are waiting. "At last!" Simmons shouts, "took you long enough!" I shoot him a deadly glare that would make a Decepticon shiver and he wisely shuts up. The sky is already quite light, and Orion's belt is touching down with the horizon, pointing at the mountains of Petra, pin-pointing exactly where to go. Hey guys!" Sam calls out over the roof. I join him, seeing the Autobots in their true forms. "Are you seeing this? That's where we needed to go!" he shouts. We get off the roof, running to the Autobots – who are now cars – with Wheely already waiting. Then I remember something. Oh no! "Guys!" I shout, skidding to a stop, "Can you wait for me fore like… five seconds? I… I forgot something," I say, turning around and running back inside, up the stairs and into my room. Under my pillow, I find the box; I open it to make sure the necklace is still there; yes. I need somewhere to put it. Somewhere where it won't come into any contact with my skin. I grab the rag that is the carpet and go all ninja on it, tearing a piece off. I lay it out quickly and, making sure I don't touch it, spill the necklace out onto it. Carefully and gently as possible, I warp the rag around it and neatly tuck it into my pocket, and run back out of the building.

"What did you forget?" Sam asks me, greeting me outside.

"Souvenir? What? I was at the air and space museum after closing hours, did you honestly think I would leave empty-handedly?" I ask, lying smoothly. Sam rolls his eyes, not even bothering to scold me about it. I get into Bee – got that sound weird, even after all these years – and we drive off into the desert.

We drive for hours, and I use that time to think everything over. My loyalties lay with the Decepticons… with Starscream. But what about my heart? Where does my heart belong? With the Decepticons; my only family? Or with Sam; my only true friend? I need to figure things out for myself because judging by where this is all headed; we will soon be facing a lot of Decepticons and a very pissed off Fallen, looking for the destruction of my home planet. And if I don't make the decision now, I will get caught in the middle, right in the heat of the crossfire and with no chosen side, I will have nowhere to go when it's over and end up dead. Not a very pretty outcome.

And I have put my loyalty in Starscream and that will never change. But what will I do if and when they win? What will I do about Sam? Will I continue to betray him? Or will I disappear from his life for good? Yes, disappearing is my best option. The farther I am from him, the better. But them what if I am ordered to remain with him? If I refuse… if I refuse, then I will be betraying the Decepticons. Why is everything so confusing? Why am I being torn in two? How do you make a choice like this? I don't want to have to choose! I want to be told what to do because everything is so much more straight forward and understandable! I can't make my own decision; I'm not used to it! I'm not used to having the control all to myself! It's so complicated and hard! Every decision is the difference between life and death and I'm not ready for that! I'm not ready to make the big decisions! _I'm not ready_!

XxXxX

We scout through the mountains for an hour, looking for somethin, and finally, when I can barely take the heat and the scorching sun in my eyes, we find something; something that greatly reminds me of a temple, set inside the side of the mountains. It's _huge_ and absolutely beautiful… and ancient and radiates with time and wisdom of hundreds of years. It looks so powerful, and yet so fragile. Like it could stand another millennium, yet if you touch it the wrong way, it will turn to dust. It's officially one of my top five most beautiful things I'd ever seen. Screw the Eiffel Tower; it's just some oversized honk of metal. This is a hundred times more imprecise.

I look around, taking the place in in amazement. We all run to it, Simmons muttering things like "spectacular" and "Amazing" and he is absolutely right. We run up to the doorway, which is the biggest doorway I'd ever seen im my entire life – and I'd seen many large doorways – and Sam climbs up, giving me an hand and climbs up, pulling Keala up, and Simmons climbs up on his own. You know, from the way I'd seen Leo look at Keala, I think he has a small crush on her or something. Mudflap uses Skids as step to get up and in, and then just kinda leaves his twin, not giving a shit now that he has seized use. I snort, remembering a guy from my school I used to hang out with. He and his best friend always used to do that to each other. And then someone called the friend a faggot in front of the whole cafeteria and they ended up in a hospital with a broken nose, arm, and ribs and the first guy did all that because he was defending his friend who really was gay and was being made fun of by everyone. But the first guy wouldn't have it. he was sent to juvenile detention for injuring the kid so much, but he proudly admitted that he was the one who beat the fuck out of the bully, because he was defending his best friend.

Skids and Mudflap were exactly like that. They beat each other up and argued and fought, but in the end, it's always like that with true siblings. Siblings are the only one who will make fun of you for pleasure, but if someone else tries, they'll beat them into a fucking coma. I know that if someone hurts Mudflap, Skids will make them pay big time, and the other way around. "It's here somewhere, guys," Sam says, looking around, trying to find something – _anything_ – that might help us.

"Why?" Leo asks, "Because we're trusting grandpa Blackbird who doesn't even know what planet he's on?"

"In his defense this is the biggest doorway I had ever seen in my entire life," Simmons says, using my very own words. And he's right; this is quite a doorway they've got here.

"Oh, ok, that's great. Let me do a quick search, alright?" Leo says with sarcasm and 'looks around'. "Uhhh… nope, ever have the question in your mind that archeologist have been here before? There's nothing here!" San sits down in front of a gorgeous painting on a wall, leaning his elbows on his keens and hanging his head. We all had the hope that something would be here. Anything at all. But Leo was right; there was nothing…

Or nothing that we could see…

I take a seat next to Sam, sitting in a similar position. "Hey,' I say, nudging him, "We'll find the Matrix. Maybe there is nothing here because it's hidden somewhere? Jetfire said the Primes made a tomb out of their own bodies. Maybe it's hidden here somewhere," I try, hoping to help him out. He looks so hopeless and depressed; the last strand of hope he was holding on to was gone. But I knew better that anyone my age that giving up hope was the most dangerous thing that can happen to someone. Hope was the most dangerous thing to lose.

"Real life is heartbreak!" Simmons shouts at Leo, "Despair, kid! Sometime, you get to the end of the rainbow, and leprechauns went a booby-trapped it!" I want to laugh at that, but I can't bring myself to do so. I too had hope that we will find something here. I don't want our whole planet to be wiped out. I want to live, grow old and die the right way, not because the sun exploded because someone hates the homo-sapiens species.

"It's not over," Sam says, sounding more like he's trying to convince himself then us.

"It _is_ over," Leo presses, despair filling his voice.

"Why ar' we listenin' to li'l punk-ass?" Mudflap asks, "Ah mean wat's he don' fo' us?"

"Killed _Megatron_, how 'bot dat?" Skids fires back, scoring a point for Sam.

"Well he din't get the job done, ya know what ah mean? 'Cause he's back now!" Mudflap shouts. They go back and forth for a moment, and then things get physical. They start wrestling and Sam and I move closer together, trying to avoid being squashed. Every cell in my body tells me to defend myself and get out of their reach, but I don't make a move. Skids attacks Mudflap; Mudflap throw him; Skids sticks the landing and goes right back at Mudflap and I am barely given time to react, but I do and I manage to push Sam out of the way, knocking us both to the ground and shielding him as Mudflap hits the wall where Sam and I were sitting less than a moment sooner. Sam and I both shouts as the crazy twins keep fighting. I look up to see Bee – who is now my new hero – grab them both, smashing their helms together before tossing them out the doorway into the desert. I look down at Sam, my breath shaking slightly. "You ok?" I ask, and he nods his head.

"Ya… thank you…" I get up, helping him up. I look up at Bee. "Thanks," I say, saluting him. Then I join Sam in front of the wall, now with a crack in it, air being sucked in. "Sam the wall's hollow," I whisper and me and Simmons help Sam pry a piece of the broken wall away to reveal… four arms in a formation of cage bars. The arms are covered in Cybertronian symbols.

"The symbols," Sam says, running a hand over them. "Bee! Shoot it," he tells his guardian and we all move away from the wall. Bee fires up his cannon and my instincts kick in, nearly taking control of me. But I maintain composure and instead, take cover at the entrance with everyone else as Bee fires his cannon and air rushes past me, being sucked into the newly created hole in the wall.

We slowly walk up to the hole, and Sam shines a light into it, revealing a cave made of metallic bodies. He carefully climbs in, and we follow. As I do, I'm careful to touch as least if these as possible. These are the original Primes. I don't think they'd like it very much if they had a bunch of teenagers walking all over them.

"YO!" Leo shouts, and without hesitation, I smack him, getting a snicker from everyone.

"Shut up," I tell him, "pay some respect. These guys gave their lives so that you can exist, give at least the smallest level of respect and not shout."

That's when Sam taps my shoulder, pulling my attention from Leo. "Look," he says, pointing his flashlight at a hand lying open. In its palm is The Matrix. It's absolutely beautiful.

No; no there is more. This isn't the end of the line. This was all way too simple. There has to be more, something we aren't seeing. There has to be a catch. I can feel it. There is more going on here. The Primes gave their lives for it, so finding it is only half the job; I'm sure of it.

And my theory is proven when Sam lifts it and it turns to dust. No, it isn't over. There is more to this. Something we don't know; something we don't see. The Primes wouldn't give their live for something that will turn to dust at the first touch. There is something else… but what? What are we missing?

The Matrix of Leadership… come one, what else is there? The Matrix of Leadership…. Leadership. People following someone; someone great. Someone who did a lot of great things. Leadership. You can't find leadership… you do things – good things; great things – to get people to follow you; to see you as a leader. You have to do things… you have to earn being a leader. Oh my god. That's it, isn't it? This is it, Primes, am I right? That's the answer to this. It was made sure that even if The Fallen finds it, he would never be able to use it because he's done nothing to… to earn it. The Matrix isn't found… it's earned.

Sam starts gathering all the dust into his sock. "Everyone is after me because of what I know; and what I know… is that this is gonna work."

"How do you know it's gonna work?" Keala ask desperately.

"Because I believe," Is Sam's answer.

**AN: so what do you think of the chapter? Was it good? I hope it was. Anyway, I don't have much to say so tell me what you thought of this chapter and I will see you all next time. Bye!**


	12. Chapter 11: the fight

I see a flare raise high into the sky, pin-pointing where to go. But then I see something else. Excuse me, _someone_ else. He's far away, but I know it's him. But… how did he find us? Starscream. The moment I see him, I feel my world click back into place. Starscream is here; everything will be ok. I won't have to make the decisions anymore. I can't take orders as I am used to and I don't have to be confused and scare.

He fires several missiles, but they all miss. And it isn't because of Bee's awesome driving but because he needs us alive. We might not be safe from being hurt, but we _are_ safe from being killed… so far. And that's when Leo, who is sitting – pardon me, _sweating_ next to me – starts panicking and babbling and all I want to do is knock him out to shut him up. Would you just calm down! Seriously! He isn't killing us! Yet. He starts going hysterical about how he's too young to die and Simmons swoops in to save the day, pressing a taser to his neck, and Leo passes out. _Thank you_!

"Can't _take_ that guy anymore," Simmons grumbles in frustration. Speaking of Simmons; why did he and Sam hate each other so much? And what happened to that hate? It just king of… disappeared. Well, at least they aren't at each other's necks like dogs.

Starscream swoops down from the sky, transforming and landing. As he does so, my heart nearly sings. He's finally here and everything will be like it's supposed to be. I only see him for a brief second, but it's enough. God did I even miss him. And now, he's finally here and things don't have to be confusing and frightening. My world can be normal again. "Hide in the dust!" Simmons shouts as Starscream fires a few more missiles. I imagine it frustrates him as hell to shoot at Autobots and have to miss every time. However with Cybertronian vampire-level hearing – I'm over exaggerating but it's close enough – I'm sure he's enjoying everyone screaming for dead life.

We 'lose' him and Sam pulls to a stop, getting out of the car. "Alright, we need to split up!" Sam says. "Bumblebee, you're the decoy; you lead the Decepticons away. Alright, I'm gonna get to Optimus."

"I'll help draw their fire," Simmons offers, "you get to those solders." Keala comes to stand next to me, intertwining our fingers. "Keala, you are… the best girl friend I ever had. None of the other galls I call my friends deserve the title of being my friend. But you were my best friend since I met you and I just wanted to say thank you; for being there for me when I most needed."

"You too," She says. "I never had a girl that I can truly call a best friend; except for you."

"Sam," I say. He turns to me. "Thanks… for being there for me. For being my friend and for not giving up on me when I was a pain in the ass. You and Keala… I couldn't dream of better friends," I say. We are going directly into battle. I'd never been in a real battle before so my chances of getting out are the same as theirs. So if today is my last day, I had to say that; not because I need to, but because I want to and because it's true. They are the only humans who have been there for me through everything I did. I was a whiny, complaining airhead, but they stuck with me. They were true friends; I couldn't dream of better. We all do a quick group hug before taking off into the desert, leaving Simmons, Leo, and the Autobots behind. We now rely on only ourselves. Something happens; no one's gonna come help us. We are on our own.

We run for what seems like an eternity. By the time we make our first stop, I'm sweating tons. I don't think I've ever sweat this much. With the weather and the running none-stop, I think I've lost a half a pound of fat just in the past fifteen minutes. My tank top clings to me in a disgusting way, and my hair is stuck to my back, shoulders, and face. I wipe my forehead, looking at my hand to find dirt. Well it's logical since the last time I had water come in contact with my skin was at the museum and I'd been running around the desert ever since. I hate sweating and being smelly and sticky and nasty and I swear my blonde hair became brown by now – or at least ash blonde.

"Sam," I breathe, "I'm tired. We've been running for a half hour."

"Don't worry; it's only a few more miles."

"Sam… that's like an hour of running strait on solid ground, and we are running zigzag on _sand_." We start running again, running towards some sort of temple in the distance. When we get there, it's already been another ten minutes. Sam is running ahead, bragging Keala by the hand, who in turn, is dragging me. "This way," Sam says.

"Sam…" Keala says in a horse tone, "my legs hurt, my lungs and throat are burning… Sam I'm _tired_; we all are, we need a break. We can't keep running like this." We slow down, coming to a stop.

"Ok, we rest five minutes, and then go again," Sam say and the moment he says 'rest', we drop to the ground, breathing heavily. We end up lying on the ground for ten minutes before our legs can take us furthers. We get up and start running again. This is nothing like training. This is _much_ worse. I look at my arms to see them red with sunburn; great. I don't tan much, but it takes a lot to give my sunburn. I only got sunburn twice before.

That's when I hear what I recognize to be Cybertronians entering the atmosphere. In my head, I prepare to count. Not long after the thuds begin. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. We duck as the tenth one flies directly over us. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen.

"… We're screwed," I breathe. Thirteen Decepticons; I'm going to die today. Thirteen Decepticons and… seven Autobots – Bee and the twins don't count right now. Thirteen 'Cons on seven 'Bots and a handful of solders; and on top of that, we've got The Fallen. We're as good as dead.

Finally, after another twenty minute of running, we make it to the outskirts of a village, and hide in the first house we see. The moment the door is locked; Keala and I drop back to the ground, struggling to breath. My throat burns and mu vision appears t be steaming. I try closing my eyes, but they sting so much I can barely do that for two seconds. I look at Keala, whose eyes are bloodshot, sweat running down her face like tap water. I know I'm in an identical condition. I feel like someone shoved a white-hot rod of titanium down my throat and my tongue feels like sandpaper. This is a nasty way to die.

Outside, I hear Cybertronian speech, and despite my condition, I force myself up on all four and crawl to a corner, hiding from any possible sight. Keala dose the same. I wire sweat off of my face, wiping my hands on my already soaked tank top. That's when I hear the Cybertronian, whoever he is, get closer to the house. So close that he seems to be right overtop us. I hold my breath – turning red ridiculously fast – and mimic Keala by covering my mouth. I look at her, seeing her begin to shake, and begin to shake too. I'm scared. Who it is I don't know, but they can kill me without bother. I'm an equal to the two teens in here with me right now. I don't have the advantage anymore, and for the first time in my life, I don't have Starscream here to stop the Decepticon from killing me. I'm on my own and if the Decepticon decides I die, then I die.

That's when I hear a growling next to me. I dare turn my head, pressing my ear to the wall, and the growling is unmistakable. Ravage. But he isn't the only one there; I count three other Decepticons. Id so much as one of them has heat-sensor vision and turns it on this house is going to look like a house fire. I begin to tremble.

My breath catches in my throat as I hear one of the Decepticons say something. I don't know exactly what he said, but I have a good guess, and I start losing my cool – which was already really low. It gets deathly quiet and I have all the confirmation I need: they found us.

Just as I finish my thought, the ceiling is tiered away with a loud growl. We all scream in horror. Sam pushes Keala and I to the far wall and I look up. And then it's all I can do not to smile and jump for joy and thank the lord above for the Decepticon looming over us. His gaze lands on me and although horror is on my face, I know my eyes are sparkling with absolute joy and happiness. Starscream; the Decepticon was Starscream. He growls and reaches for us, missing on purposed, however we all scream. But my scream is for play. I'm not afraid. I know I should be, but I'm not. I'm so incredibly happy. We get out of the building as it is smashed to bits. We run as fast as we can, screaming as we do. We run up a set of stair as another Decepticon smashes them to bits behind us, cutting us off from turning back. I stop freaking out and start thinking of this as training; my final test.

We end up on a roof with no way to go back. "We're gonna need to jump!" Sam says, taking Keala's hand, and she takes mine. Taking a few steps back, we take a run for it, out feet leaving the roof a moment before it's blown up. The shockwave from the explosion give us the right nudge and we actually land on the other roof, which was too far away to get to on our own. Rock and debris fly everywhere. But from the speed of our flight, we skid across the roof, rolling over, and fall down two stories. I fall first, having Keala and Sam land on me. Shear pain shoots through me and I look at myself seeing that my legs and arms are shredded from the fall, blood streaming down steadily. I have multiple cuts all over me and my head hurts so much I feel like I have an aneurism. My ears ring and I can't hear a thing. The world around me is spinning in circles with no intention to stop. I am deafened and unbalanced; an easy target. Fuck that. I'm such an easy kill right now. No, I refuse to be like that, not with Starscream watching. I will impress him even if it lands me in the hospital. In front of him I will not be weak. I get up, holding on to the wall for support and will the world to stand still, if only for a second. I look down, seeing in horrifying condition I'm in. I need medical care preferable yesterday. If I don't get myself looked at, I might – no, I _will_ die from blood poisoning. I'm covered in blood and dirt. Not good at all. The other two get up and we run like hell itself is on our heels. We take cover in a broken building, offering a view of the solders and Autobots. "We got a half a mile," Sam says. Half a mile; not too bad. We can make it… I think. "I don't think the solders know we're here." And that is horrifically terrible. We're going to die.

We run for it again, a car getting in our way. Keala takes the easy way and runs around it, but Sam and I aren't as smart so Sam literally jumps over it, skidding across its roof – when did he become a badass ninja? – and I follow, but in my condition, after I stick the landing, I don't get two steps before I fall. I get up on my knees, seeing that my necklace fell out. Without thinking, I snatch it up and stuff it back into my pocket, the realization of what I'd just done only hitting my after. I activated it.

"Sam!" I hear as I run alongside Keala. I look up to see Ron and Judy. Dear god; not them. We run to them, but I stop short at the sound of transformation. _Frag_! Just as I think that, a Decepticon jumps from behind the building next to me and I duck for cover with Keala, a shot being fired right next to my head. I'm too weak to even look up and so I end up just laying there, face in the hot sand, struggling to move. I'm so tired and exhausted from all of this! Fuck damn it!

"Here is what you want right here," Sam say. I can't even look up to see him, but I know that he is holding up his sock with the Matrix dust in it. "BUMBLEBEE!" Sam screams. I hear fighting and feel so extremely vulnerable. I gather up all the strength I have and force myself up to se Bee fighting the 'Con. Keala helps me up and we lean against each other for support. Bee is going supper badass on the con as they tear each other to shreds. I take this time to gather up all the remaining strength I have.

I hear gunfire and turn around to see… Ravage! But he is shooting at Bee, wanting to kill him, and as much as I love Ravage, I can't let him kill Bee. So I do the first thing that comes to mind: I scream. "BEE! Watch out!" this gets his attention and he turns around to see Ravage. But that also gets the attention of both the 'Con and Ravage, and all three look at me for a split second before the 'Con lounges at both me and Bee at the same time. And to my surprise and horror, Ravage lounges at me to. I hold my arms up as a useless shield, ready for his razor sharp teeth to finish me off. But instead of killing me, he tackles me down to the ground, pressing me into the sand, covering my and shooting at the 'Con, and snarling. He stays there until Bee kills the 'Con. Then he turns his guns to Ravage but I'm quick to act and get myself in front of my Ravage. "NO!" I scream, startling Bee, who immediately lowers his weapon away from me.

"Abby! Get away from that thing!" Sam screams.

"No Sam! He saved me! I'm not letting him be killed!"

"Abby! What are you doing?! It's a Decepticon!" Keala shouts desperately. Ravage jumps in front of me in a protective stance, ready to fight. He did that sometimes when one of the other Decepticons got too rough with me and was actually starting to hurt me. His gaze shift between the four humans and the Autobot, and he crouches down low, ready to jump into action.

"Bee, he's a Decepticon; if he wanted to hurt me, he would have already done so," I say.

"Ok, try this: _why_?!" Sam shouts. Why doesn't Ravage want to hurt me? Because I love him and in his own way, I know he loves me back. He always protected me and when we played, we actually _played_ not have him chase me around and hit and kick me and throw me around. And because he was the only one of the Decepticons who never tried to kill me or even hurt me. But I can't say any of that out loud. "I don't know, Sam," I lie, "but if he did want me hurt, he wouldn't protect me against this Decepticon," I say, pointing at the dead 'Con. And that's when my weakness gets to me and I go crashing back down to the ground. But Ravage catches me, letting me fall onto his back. I know that everyone stares, but I don't give a shit. I push myself up, and Ravage kneels down next to me; a gesture I learned to recognize and love.

Without hesitation, I climb onto his back and he stand up. Ravage is the size of a tiger so he's pretty darn big. "See?" I say, "If he wanted to hurt me, he wouldn't have done that," I tell them. "Bee, lower your weapon. I know you hate Decepticons, but he doesn't want to hurt me, _as you can see_," I say, making a point of that it isn't all in my head. "Now, can we cut the crap and get to that Optimus dude before more Decepticons come and try to kill us?" everyone shoots Ravage a long, frightening glare, and he returns them one of his own. Just then there is an explosion and Ravage blots. We run to hide in between buildings for cover. There is more gunfire and explosions and everyone screams, ducking for cover.

"BEE! Bumblebee!" Sam shouts, "You get them somewhere safe, alright?" he tells his guardian, gesturing to his parents. BE bends down, transforming and Sam turns to his dad. "Go gotta get in the car," he says," and Ron flips.

"No! This is not a discussion! You're my _son_! You're my _son_! If we go, we go together." This strikes a chord far too close to home and I feel tears run down my face. Ron refuses to leave without his son. My father? He runs, forgetting I'm even with him. Ron loves Sam, more than anyone else on the planet – not, scratch that; in the _universe_. And he refuses to leave Sam here alone and unprotected even if he knows nothing of what is going on. You can tell by his voice that he won't leave his son unprotected. My father never did that. And yet that piece of shit still has the guts to call himself my dad! You son of a bitch! You didn't' fought for me! You said you loved me! If you loved my, you would have crawled out of your skin to keep me out of this horrid world! You would have protected me with everything you had! You would have been there for every birthday and walked me to school and beat up the bullies! Instead, you brought them into my home and let them beat me up and abuse me and be horrible to me! You have no right to call yourself anything! You have no right to even _think_ of me, let alone tell me such an atrocious, _cruel_ lie! You never loved me! I was a trophy! And when mom died from cancer, you could have done something! I was born with the possibility to develop that cancer and Starscream, _Starscream_ had that looked at and fixed, not you! And when she died, you re-married in a half a year! You son of a bitch! You little shit! I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, _I hate you_!

Sam finally gets his parents into Bee, and tries to get Keala to go with them, but she takes it like a champ, telling him she isn't leaving him in a tone that makes him realize he isn't dealing with mom and dada anymore and if she says something, it goes.

"Abby-"

"Sam, if you're going to tell me to go, then screw you. You are my friend and I'm not leaving you. I'm going, whether you like it or not."

"Ok, no use fighting you. Let's go!" we run for a while longer, coming up in another broken building, where we see Ironhide and the Arcee triplets. Revenge kneels down and I get off. He takes off as the purple one pulls up in front of us. "Follow us to the pillars," she says," we'll take you to Optimus." Just as she says that, there is gunfire behind her, and the next moment, a shot misses her head by an inch. She turns around, firing at the Decepticon. Ironhide, along with the triplets and Ravage take on the 'Cons and Ironhide orders us to get to the pillars. We run again, this time I'm feeling a lot better from my break and from knowing that Ravage is here. And we run directly into a battlefield. Autobots, Decepticons, and humans firing back and forth and we are right in the middle of it all. We run as fast as we can, ducking and dodging as much as we can.

I turn around to see the ground behind us erupt into fire and explosion and we push ourselves faster. But the Keala trips and we follow her down. I get yet another face-full of sand as I try to get back up, but fail. My entire body is sore and aching. I can barely my a move I lay in the sand as Sam and Keala try to get me to get up but that run took away all the strength I have. I can't move; I can barely breathe. Now that I can pay attention, I'm starting to get cold. Then it's like someone skips forward in a movie. I go in and out, seeing snip bits of everything. Will. A Decepticon. Ravage. Another Decepticon. Jetfire.

And the next thing I know, I'm running, hand in hand with Will, with Keala on the other side. Will is telling me to run faster and despite me state, I force myself to obey. Fire and explosion fat too powerful for Decepticon cannon fire fill the air and I cover my head as adrenaline rushes through me more than it ever did in my life. Bringing me back to life.

Sam runs off in another direction and no one stops him. Clearly he's running to Optimus. Then I turn around and see Megatron come out of the smoke as Will pulls mw to the ground. And then the unthinkable happens. Megatron fires at Sam, sending him flying through the air. He lands on the ground and given everything, it's impossible for him to have survived. He lays motionless for a moment and my fears confirm. Sam is dead.

**AN: I hope you liked the chapter. Please forgive any spelling errors. by the way, did anyone else cry a little when they were reading her breakdown over Sam's dad in compared to her father? I know I got a little teary when I was writing it. anyway, I hope you liked the chapter, review and see you next chapter!**


	13. Chapter 12: my world

I've never felt more alive in my life. Before anyone can react, I'm at Sam's side, screaming hysterically. Will appears next to me, wrapping his arms around and literally tossing me away as he signals the paramedics over. I climb back to him but a solder catches me holding me back as I scream and thrash and call out Sam's name, all the while acid-like tears straining my dirty face. Lennox start CPR and Keala goes hysterical, ordering him to do something; to help Sam; to save him! He bends down to listen for his breathing and heart beat, looking at Keala with an expression I don't want to think of. I throw my head back, hitting the back of it against the solders nose, just hard enough for him to let me go and crawl over to Sam as they get out a defibrillator, moving Sam's shirt. I look around to find Bee on his knees, looking like everything he knew and loved in the entire world was taken away from him in the worst of ways. He looks heartbroken and ashamed and broken down. His charge just died. A charge to an Autobot is the most important being in the universe save from a Sparkmate. It doesn't take a genius to know that Bee just lost the very purpose of his life.

I'm pulled away again but this time, seeing Bee's reaction, it left me with no strength to fight and I'm dragged away like a doll. Sam is dead. Sam. My friend; my confidant. He is the only person in the world except from Keala on whom I ever relied. He can't be dead; he can't!

"SAM!" I scream, freeing myself and crawling back over to him, where Keala is already pleading him. "Sam… listen to my voice, I love you; and I need you… please… come back to me-Sam please I love you!" I crawl closer to him, kneeling down next to him.

"Sam, dear, you have to get up; you gotta wake up. Sam, please ... I beg you, come back! Sam, you're my brother; you are the most precious person in this world to me!Сэм, ты мой брат, я не могу без тебя! Сем; ты мне нужен! Сэм! Сэм, прошу тебя! Вернись! Sam! You're my brother and I need you to pull through this. I won't make it without you, I'll go insane! Sam!" I screech and he doesn't respond. I'm on fire. Every cell in my body is burning as the realization fully hits me and my elbows give away and I fall, screaming for the first person in the world who has ever cares for me.

I see my entire world fall and turn to nothingness as the boy lays next to me, motionless. Everything that kept me together and going over the past four days vanished right in front of my eyes and I couldn't hold anything in. "Sam!" I scream, "Don't you dare leave us! You have you parents! And your guardian! You have Keala! Sam!" I shush myself up, pull me hand back and slap him with everything I have and then screech when he comes up gasping for air.

"SAM!" Keala screams. I move out of the way just in time to have Keala replace me, holding his face I both hands, looking at him in horror and love and desperation.

"I love you," he whispers to her, "I love you." Keala and I help him get up, tears rolling down my face. Sam hugs me, holding me close. "I love you too, little sister." The moment he steps away from me, whatever miracle kept me on my feet disappears and I crash right back down to the ground again, falling over something metal. I crack my eyes open to see Ravage and the smallest of smiles crosses my lips. And it's the last thing I remember before darkness.

XxXxX

When I come to, I feel two extra weights on my bed. I crack my eyes open to see a beat up Sam and Keala sitting on either side of me. "Oh my god, thank god you're away," Keala says, pulling me into a hug.

"What happened?" I ask.

"I revive Optimus, and then the Fallen showed up. He stole the Matrix and tried to turn on the machine of doom. Optimus fought him and won, so the crisis is over. When you collapsed, that freaky Decepticon came out of nowhere and caught you and then, well, no one could shoot him while you were with him so we thought that he was using you as a shield, but he didn't go anywhere. He kind of just knelt down and stayed there, letting you lay on him. After the fight between the Fallen and Optimus, Ratchet fixed me and Keala up, and then I made him do an extra good job on you. As you can see, we're still in that stupid-ass desert. There were too many badly injured to move any of them, so we had to set up camp here until at least some are better." I look around, seeing I'm in a makeshift hospital. It isn't real or anything, it's like one of those war hospitals where they just lay the people out in rows. All around us are wounded soldiers. Some are conscience some are not. It smells of blood and sickness everywhere but no one complains. "Ratchet said that we should be able to move some of them back to base in a weak."

"And how long ago did he say that? Sam, how long was I out?"

"Three days. And _that_ thing," Sam said, pointing at the floor. I peak over to see my Ravage curled up in a ball on the ground. "That _thing_ didn't let anyone but Ratchet touch you until today. It's a miracle you woke up so early. With your injuries and stress, it's amazing you actually went so long. But I got Optimus to get Ratchet to use some of his supper advanced technology on you. It was meant for robots, but we got Ratchet to modify it just enough to operate. He did an amazing job; see for yourself." I slowly lift my arms, noting that there is no soaring or any form of pain. I look at them, looking for stitches and ugly scars that will never fade, but find none; only light pink lines of newly formed skin where the cuts and gashes used to be. My arms are in damn near perfect condition. I stare at them in amazement. "Ya, I know. Cool, right? He did the same with the rest of you. Don't worry; by two days from now, there won't be a single reminder of that you went through a war."

"Not a single reminder except for that it mentally damaged me for the rest of my life and I will never sleep peacefully again."

"Ya, except for that. Don't worry, it's ok, though; NEST has the best military therapist working there, they'll help you get back up on you feet. I went to counseling after... you heard about Mission City two years ago, right? Ya well, they was Megatron." No it wasn't, it was Optimus and the ones who thought it would be a great id to hide the Alspark there. "Anyway, so after Mission City, I went to counseling. Don't worry, they'll fix you right up." no, I they won't because the thing I'm dealing with are a lot more serious than anyone here thinks.

Truth is… I don't even know what to believe anymore. "Hey… how… I mean… that guy," I say, pointing at Ravage. "How was he…?"

"…Aloud to live? I honestly don't know. He had a chat with Optimus and whatever they said to each other… anyway, Optimus said that he was no to be killed. I think he said something about a trial and changing factions." Changing factions? No, Ravage… no matter what he thinks about me, he would never become an Autobot. Maybe he's staying with me until I go back to Starscream; you know, watching over me or something. But an Autobot? Never.

XxXxX

I woke up yesterday. And since then, everyone was making me useless. I couldn't help anyone! I wanted to help with the injured or with basic needs such as helping with the food and stuff, but no matter what I offered, it was rejected. All I could do was lay in 'bed' and be useless. And I couldn't take it anymore. Having nothing to do made me miserable. I had nothing to do but think over what happened. I almost died and it was because of the Decepticons. If I go back, I will have to be loyal to Megatron… if he keeps me. And Megatron was the one who killed Sam; I could never serve him.

But then there was Starscream. I needed to see him… somehow. I still had that necklace. As it turns out, I dropped it again, but Ravage found it and gave it to me this morning. Of course! I get up from the 'bed', Ravage perking up at my movement. "I want to go for a walk," I tell him. He kneels down and I climb on. I need to tell Sam I'm gone so that no one thinks Ravage kidnapped me or something, and then I can go far out and maybe Starscream will come. We find Sam in a tent with Keala… making out. I clear my throat, getting their attention.

"Abby, you're gonna need to stop doing that," Sam says, staring at me.

"Doing what?"

"Riding around on that thing's back like it's a pony. It's frikin _creepy_! And you act as through its no big deal."

"Whatever; look, I have nothing to do, so uh… I'm gonna go exploring, ok? _Don't_ follow my or I'll beat you up. I want to be alone for a while; away from all this craziness and sick and injured. I need a quiet break to sort things out, ok? Don't freak out if you can't find me. I promise that the moment I get back, I'll tell you."

"You aren't going anywhere," Sam tells me.

"Sam, please! I _need_ a break. Ravage will go with me."

"_That's_ why you aren't going."

"Sam," Keala says, "Let her go. She really does need a break, from all of this." Sam sighs, but waves a hand at me.

"You tell me the second you get back, got it?"

"Sir, yes Sir," I say with a military salute. Then Ravage turns around and walks away. He slightly jogs until we are far enough from the camp, and then breaks into a run at the speed of light. The world around me blurs into one strange color and he runs for a good half hour taking me several dozen miles out and only then doze he slow down to a stead jog. I take my necklace out of my pocket and put it on, and we walk around aimlessly for another half hour before he suddenly stops. That's when I hear the familiar sound of the F22 Raptor I have grown to love. I turn around to see my favorite mech transform, hitting the ground so hard, it shakes. I get off of Ravage, smiling up at him.

"Starscream," I whisper.

"You shouldn't be here," he growls at me, but my smile doesn't go away. I can't put into words how happy I am to see him. "Get out of here," he growls in a threatening tone, but I don't move. "I said get out!" he shouts. This time, I step back, seeing him in a bad mood. I've learned better than to do stupid things when he's in a bad mood.

"Why," I ask, gathering up all my courage. He's in a bad mood, but surely he doesn't mean anything. I want to know why he's telling me to leave. Did I do something wrong? If I did, I need to fix it.

"Because you are a disgrace," he spits his voice full of venom. My heart skips a beat. I'm a disgrace to him? Well, of course I am; I'm human. Of course he would say that. Especially now with Megatron looming over him, watching his every move. But he's just saying the truth; he doesn't actually hate me… right?

"Then what can I do to fix whatever it is that made me a disgrace?"

"You honestly think I didn't see you break down and start _crying_ when that human died? You think I didn't hear you bag him not to die; you think I didn't hear you call him a _brother_?! You've _failed_! For your treachery I should kill you right now! Have I not done enough for you? Have I not let you live all this time? I have disgraced myself in front of all Decepticons by showing you care and this is how you thank me? By betraying me?!" he boomed, and I fell back onto the ground, my eyes going wide in fear. I hear his cannon before I see it, roaring to life in front of me. I swallow thickly. Surely he wouldn't… or maybe he would. I guess I deserved it, anyway. Yes, indeed I had called Sam a brother and I meant it. Had I, by doing so, betrayed Starscream? Yes, I had. And the moment I think of it, I feel awful. No, I swore I would never betray him! How could I have done that?

"Starscream," I plead, "I'm sorry. Please, your grace, forgive me my disrespect. I vow to never allow such disgrace to come from me again!" I try desperately. Oh my god; what have I done? I look up into his eyes momentarily, finding nothing but hate and disgust and determination to get rid of me. He's never looked like that before, and now, I'm truly, honestly scared; I'm _afraid_ of what he might do. Fear shoots through me, shaking my every bone. His cannon gets closer to me and my instincts and every cell in my body tell me to get up and run and hide because this wasn't games, this was real and it was dangerous. This isn't training; this isn't another one of his games. There is no amusement at me fear, or, well, _any_ emotion but disgust and hate. My heart stops at the realization. I really have crossed the line. After everything he's done for me, I've thrown it all away. All the kindness and mercy he showed me meant nothing to me in his eyes. But in my eyes, they meant everything. They were my very life and purpose and existence, they were everything to me. _He_ was everything to me.

I'd had more than my fair share of near-death experience; it wasn't something you ever really go use to. It seemed oddly inevitable though, facing death again; like I really _was_ marked for disaster. I'd escaped time and time again, but it kept coming back for me. Still, this time was so different from the others. You could run from someone you feared, you could try to fight someone you hated. All of my reaction were geared toward those kinds of killers – the monsters; the enemies. When you loved the one who was killing you, it left you no options. How could you run, how could you _fight_, if doing so would hurt that beloved one? If your life was all you had to give to your beloved, how could you not give it?

If it was someone you truly loved?

I loved Starscream with all my heart, so how could I run or even consider _fighting_? I couldn't. He wanted me dead, and he had a good reason. So who was I to stop him anyway? I'd done something terribly wrong, and now, I had to pay for it. Still, a part of me wished that he would see that treachery was not what I had meant and that he would understand that it was an accident. I didn't want to die, at anyone's hand. But least of all, I wanted to die at _his_ hand. Because dying at his hand meant that I had done something so horribly wrong that it made him reconsider that last eighteen years. He promised me that until I was eighteen, until I wasn't a Sparkling anymore, he wouldn't hurt me. But now he was going back on his word; he was lying to me… he was hurting me. And I was so terrified. He wasn't the same Starscream I knew all these years. He was ruthless and bloodthirsty and vicious and he was dead-set on killing me. He was the only one I had ever trusted to not hurt me, but he was hurting me.

I felt my entire reality shatter as a looked in the eye of the one I loved more than anything, and the same one who was killing me. Everything he ever said to me turned meaningless. "Don't you see?! I never cared for you! You were a handy tool! I was going to dispose of you later anyway, but you leave me no choice but to dispose of you now. Don't think you're all that. You are mediocre; nothing special. You. Are. _Replaceable_. I will find many, three times better that you! You are useless to me." tears were rolling down my cheeks as his words sunk in, taking away and destroying everything I believed in. he never cared for me; he just used me. He did to me what he taught me to do best. It never mattered how good a liar and user I was, you can't out-lie a liar; especially not when he taught you how to lie. I was nothing but a piece in a game, just as I was for everyone else. I was nothing more than a pawn, with seven more just like me ready to go. I wasn't anything special; I was just a tool to him.

I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces and blow away in the wind, leaving me with absolutely nothing. I loved him, and I was ready to jump into hell for him, should he only say the word, and he used that. he dangled hope over my head, just out of my reach, and then when he got board, whatever strand I was holding on to was taken away and burned to ash; turned to dust' turned to nothing. I looked into his eyes, and saw everything I knew in the entire world disappear as they drilled holes into me, hate overflowing them. He used me, and now when I seized use, he was throwing me away, just as anyone ever did. He wasn't any better than my father.

In fact, he was worse.

He gets up. "You have three seconds to get up and run, and take this disgusting traitor with you." I don't need to be told twice. I get onto Ravage's back, and we zoom away, my whole world burning in flames until there is nothing left.

**(SPOV)**

His Spark tore at itself as he watched the effect his words had on her. He watched her entire reality vanish as he said that he used her and nothing more. He saw her realize that he was never better that that poor excuse for a creator. He watched and he could do nothing about it. He said his words with as much hatred as he could master, making sure to take away everything she thought she knew and destroy her entire world of lies, and then, when he knew he had succeeded, he told her to run while she can. And his Spark nearly stopped as he fired his cannon, letting Ravage dodge his blows, but having no choice but to injure her in the process.

He had not told Megatron of her, and was hoping that when he did find out, she would be far away, where he cannot find her. _Megatron, you will never use her for your own needs_, he thought. He had made sure to turn off the signal coming from the necklace, making it useless.

"You are free," he said quietly, _needing_ to say those words out loud. She was never meant to be in this world. She's already suffered too much; she was only just a Sparkling, she should not have ever been in the war. He made sure to take care of everything, and would soon contact that traitor, Ravage, who's love for the girl clouded his judgment. But he would rather Ravage stayed with her. Starscream knew he would protect her. Starscream knew how much she hated the name Abby, and has taken care of everything, making sure she stayed with the Autobots for as long as it was possible. Eighteen years is no short time; and they don't go unnoticed. The young girl left a huge impact on his life.

"Be safe… my little Sparkling."

**AN: ok, oh-my-god, I cried while writing this chapter, especially the end. I wrote that last part to illustrate that after eighteen years, he's grown to care for her nearly as much as she cared for him; and him telling her all of that was like 'to saved your loved ones, you have to leave them behind'. Anyway, now I'm finally going to go off script and into the world of my imagination with this story. Yay… hopefully. Anyway, did you like the chapter? I hope you did. With this chapter I was debating to either go with something like this: he hurts her to keep her safe; or I was going to make it more friendly and heartfelt, but decided to go with this and I hope I made the right choice. So how about you tell me what you think of it and I will update again really really soon. Deal?**

**Ok, see you all next time!**

**"I'd had more - you truly loved" quote belongs to Stephenie Meyer, but i found it to be quite fitting here.**


	14. Chapter 13: free

**AN: I'M REWRITING THE STORY FROM THIS POINT ON!**

**I rewrote this chapter, but only slightly. I don't own Transformers; enjoy.**

I let the steaming water work its way through my horrifyingly dirty hair, the grim and dirt running down the drain. I let the hot water wash away the dirt on my skin. God how I missed being clean. I lift my face, letting the water wash away the sweat and dirt and the tears I have shamelessly shed in the past three days to no end.

I scrub at my skin, trying to get the reminder of the desert and death and anything that _isn't_ skin off of me. But no matter how hard I try, I can't get the scent out. I smell it everywhere; in the food I eat, the water I drink, the bed I sleep in; it's everywhere and it refuses to leave my mind. I want to scream in frustration as the smell of last week – along with my entire life – clings to me like a leach, sucking the very life out of me. I can't breathe; I can't think straight; I can't do anything to free myself fo the stench of death and the desert and Decepticons off of me. I can't make the memories go away; disappear forever.

I slam my wet hands painfully on the wall of the shower stall, biting my tongue so hard it bleeds as I try not to scream, but fail, and a muffled, choked, desperate cry erupts from my throat. It's a horrid sound that sounds like a cat being stabbed with a pen over and over again. I sound like an animal, being skinned alive; slowly, painfully. At the thought, my very own skin turn ablaze in phantom pain, and I turn my head, pressing my face into my shoulder as I let out a muffled scream of imaginary agony. I crumble to the ground for the thousandth time in the past week, invisible tears burning themselves into my face. My elbows give away and I end up lying limb in the shower as the hot water cooks me inside out. I begin to choke on myself; so horribly that I nearly swallow my tongue a few times in the process. I start making horrible sounds, a mix between choking and wailing.

_"Don't you see?! I never cared for you! You were a handy tool! I was going to dispose of you later anyway, but you leave me no choice but to dispose of you now. Don't think you're all that. You are mediocre; nothing special. You. Are. _Replaceable_. I will find many, three times better that you! You are useless to me."_

I was nothing to him. He was worse than Arthur. I was ready to jump into hell for him, should he tell me to! I was ready to kill for him! Everything I had, I thanked him for! He was my entire life and everything I loved and treasured in it! I loved him!

_"Don't you see?! I never cared for you! You were a handy tool!"_

A horrid wave of sobs rocks through me, setting my skin and blood on fire in absolute rage; rage unlike any I have ever felt in my life. I get the need to go out and kill something.

_I wanted so much to make him proud of me. I wanted him to see that I can be just as ruthless and calculating as a true Decepticon and when others got hurt, I showed no emotion. One time, I saw a cat plating with a butterfly. The cat injured it and was teasing it, letting it think it had a chance to get away and when the butterfly almost reached her destination all of her hopes and dreams were crushed. It went on for a while until I got tired. So I kicked the cat onto the road and it was hit by a car, and then I picked up the butterfly and tore its wing. Then I found an anthill nearby and tossed it to the ants. I watched them carry her away into their nest. I was twelve then._

I was _twelve_ then, and they made me into a cold, heartless, murderous monster! They took everything from me and gave me lies, only to take _them_ away too, leaving me with _nothing_! Not even a sweat little lie to believe in! They gave me a fake world to love, they gave me false family to believe in, but those lies were better that the alternative, and then they shattered every illusion I had of having somethin in this world to fight for; to _love_! They're cruelty has no limits, I see that now. They care for no one.

"_I hate you!_ I hate you and I want nothing more that to see you suffer."

XxXxX

I sit on the edge of my bed in the living quarters I share with Sam, Keala, and Leo. We're on an aircraft carrier, somewhere in the middle of the ocean. I honestly don't give a shit about where we are. Even though I share the room, I've pretty much took it to myself. Ravage won't let anyone come in except for at night to sleep.

Technically, Ravage is supposed to be in a hangar with the Autobots. Apparently, he's become neutral, but even so, now that he technically isn't Decepticon, he got hell for the little break in he did to get the shard. But no matter what they said, I stood by him the whole time, ready to jump in front of him if overly trigger happy Ironhide decides to shoot and ask questions later.

Ravage didn't give them much information as to why he decided to go neutral except for that life as a pet sucks, but the whole time that he was with me, he didn't let anyone touch me unless _I_ let them. He was supper protective of me, and when I was in the makeshift 'hospital' in Egypt, he nearly attacked a solder for trying to grab me when I was protecting Ravage.

The thing was that Ironhide tried to shoot him, and I jumping front of him, acting as a shield and praying to god and Primus and whoever else is up there that what Sam said was true and he wouldn't actually shoot me. A solder tried to pull me away, and Ravage tackled him, but other than that, left him unharmed – other than mentally. Ironhide only found the more reason to shoot, but when I got in the way again, it took a direct order for his leader to stand down, for him to actually do so. Since then, everyone learned not to mess with me.

At the moment, Ravage was curled up in a ball in brief recharge (sort of like napping). Me? I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, my elbows resting on my knees, my head hanging low, as I try to squeeze out a few tears. I've long since cried myself dry. You know, I didn't know it was even possible, but from crying so much, I actually got thirsty. And of course, the party wouldn't be complete without Wheely, who was quietly sitting next to me, wisely not saying a word. But the silence was killing me. The quieter it was, the more I was thinking about what happened. I didn't want to think about it. I wanted to free myself of the memories; of the pain.

Mt heart skips not one, but two agonizing beats as I remember Starscream's face; the pure hatred and disgust so very clear in his optics.

_"Don't you see?! I never cared for you! You were a handy tool!"_ I was a tool, just like everyone else. I was nothing but empty space; a means of entertainment.

I feel a tiny metallic hand on my arm and look at Wheely. "What do you want?" I ask in a scary, dead voice. I'd never heard my voice sound like that. It's so broken and lifeless, like I'm a speaking corps.

"Ravage and I… we… we found a way to get you to stay on base with those Autobots, if you want." I look at him. I honestly don't care anymore; I _do_ however want to hear what they came up with. "Shoot," I tell him. And he tells me. I have to admit, it's actually pretty darn cleaver. The story is that two years ago, a couple of people killed my family because of a debt. One of the only leads the police had was me, since I saw the whole thing, but hid well, and then ran away. However, the people who killed my family knew that I was the only one who witnessed the murder. And so when I told the horrible story of seeing my whole family be heartlessly murdered, they put me in the witness protecting program. I was in it for a year, until they thought it was safe enough, but told me to remain hidden and not tell anyone anything but the cover story: that I was living with my uncle in Tranquility, on my own. They – Ravage and Wheely – created another fake identity for the girl who's seen her family be killed, giving me all the details I need. I was born on October seventh, 1990, making me nineteen. I was born in Ontario, Canada. I moved to USA when I was ten. Have a criminal record in shoplifting – for show that I'm not perfect girl – and speeding. My name stayed the same, but the age was changed, giving me a reasonable enough excuse to have been living on my own.

So now Abby wasn't as much a wimp as she used to be a week ago. It was a good story, and not at all confusing. It was easy to keep track of and not mess up.

I give Wheely a nod, and go back to my pondering and hating. Because I have no tears left, I curl up in a ball, and fall asleep.

XxXxX

_"Did you see me? Did you? Did you?! Did you see what I just did?!" he nods, looking board. The smile on my face dies away in disappointment. Not good enough. "Again!" I shout, running the other way. Getting a good enough distance away, I turn around to face the car. I was going to do it this time; I was sure of it. I was going to make him proud. Setting my sight on the black car, I get into a running position. "Go!" I shout to it. The tires screech, and it breaks into a drive as I break into a run, pushing against the ground as hard as I can. It comes closer and closer, only strengthening my determination. It's right in front of me, and I raise my leg higher, stepping onto its hood, and push off forward onto the roof. My foot slips, and I feel a nasty pain in my ankle. I lose my balance on the speeding car, and topple over. It happen so fast that I don't even realize what's going on and the next thing I know, a familiar pain washes over my body as I hit the ground. I can't move, and instead, I screech on agony. The pain sets me ablaze, blinding me. It's a familiar pain, but I never got used to it, no matter how many times it happened, breaking bones hurt so fucking much!_

_ Over my scream I hear the crashing of metal, and the sound of Cybertronian curses. Angry growls and poor excuses that aren't taken or even listened to, and more crashing as I lay on the ground in agony. There is the sound of transformation and screeching tires, diving off at an exceptional speed. A pair of hands move me, picking me up carefully as breathing becomes hard. I start to choke, my lungs feeling heavy and hot. My throat seems to be slowly turning to water, suffocating me. Maybe doing the trick again was a bad idea. But I wanted to impress him so much._

_"You are stronger that this, fleshling. I've seen you be worse. You are stronger than this. You need to fight. Listen to me, I am ordering you to stay conscious; do you hear me? That is a direct order," he growls. "You have to stay awake. A medic is on his way; you have to stay awake until he comes."_

_"It… hguh-it hurts…" I manage to get out, my throat thickening. The pain blinds me, and I see stars everywhere I look. And stars is all I need to remember Starscream. I will be stronger than this. I will fight. I will take the pain and I will stay away as long as I need to. I will make him proud._

_"You are stronger than this. Cassandra… you did well." And that's all I need to open my eyes, and lock them in one place. I start taking very slow, shallow breaths, inhaling as least liquids as I can. I bike my tongue to pull myself out of my daze, trying to keep my mind fully awake. The pain wanes, becoming bearable. I look up at him, seeing his optics focused on me._

_I can do this. Thinks to him, I'll pull through this and be ok, just as I always do._

I jolt up, my eyes wide, my throat think, and my entire body aching as if I'd just broken every bone in it. With that fall I took three years ago, I could as well have. Twenty seven broken bone, a dislocated shoulder, and a concussion. That was no fun fall; one of the worst I had taken.

Starscream was the one who helped me pull through that. He told me I was strong and that I could do it. He told me I will make it and I did; for him. I pulled through because he told me I will. His words were the once keeping me away when at the moment, all I wanted to do was die. It hurt so much. I was so determine to do it, but I messed up, and ended up breaking twenty seven bones and suffering the aftereffects of a concussion for two and a half months. But even so, I didn't give up. He told me I did well, and it helped more than anything else could.

How can I forget that? How can I forget that even though it was all a cleaver act to keep me loyal willingly, it was still the care that no one else gave me? How can I ignore that even though it wasn't real, it was still the care and time and fatherly affection I craved? He taught me; _that_ was for real. He taught me how to best survive. Without the training he had me go through, I would have last week. How can I forget it as if it never happened?

I can't. I can _never_ forget it.

XxXxX

I stop in my tracks, unable to take another step. "Abby?" Will asks, turning back around. We were somewhere where I was not allowed to know, but wherever it was, it wasn't the aircraft carrier anymore. From the smell and the bits of the sound of outside, I figured we were on an island somewhere, so I guess it was probably Diego Garcia. "I'm… I'm fine," I mumble, taking a deep breath.

"Look," he says, "I know your first experience with Cybertronians was traumatizing, but I swear to you, the Autobots won't hurt you, all you are doing is officially introducing yourself. And then you can settle everything with secrecy and go home." No I can't. I can't go home; ever. What will I do? It isn't like I can honestly stay here. Where will I go? Well, I guess I'll start with buying a house. Unless they froze my bank accounts, I still have more than a fortune on those. But what about Wheely and Ravage? I know for sure Wheely can't stay here; he's far too small, and I'm the only thing keeping Ravage alive. I'm the only one protecting him and without me, nothing will stop them from shooting him. But I can't stay here either. Since I was a little girl, I've been taught how dangerous Autobots can be. I was taught to never trust them. But then if I don't stay… if I leave… the Decepticons might come after me. And if I do stay here, I still have the humans. Will won't let anyone hurt me, so I guess both option are dangerous, but staying is the least dangerous one of the two.

Ravage nuzzles into my hand, handing at my side, half growling, and half purring, and I… it's sort of like 'scratching behind his ear', smiling down at him. "Please don't do that to that thing, it's creepy enough as it is."

"Will, 'that thing' has a name; it's 'Ravage', and _Ravage_ saved me several times, and apparently, he chose to stay with me." Ravage purrs and knees down. I climb onto the tiger-sized beast that I have learned to love – now than ever – and he starts slowly walking forward. For safety reasons, he had his gun taken away, so now it's a hell of a lot more comfortable to ride him.

"That has got to be the creepiest thing I'd ever seen," Lennox says, eyeing the two of us. I just shrug. "I'd seen far worse," I say quietly.

"I'm sorry you had to be dragged into the fight." Ya, me too… I think. What I told Sam was true. Even though the fight was the worst and scariest thing that ever happened to me in my life, I didn't regret going with him. Besides, if I never went with him, I would have never found out about the lies I'd been fed. If I didn't go with him… I wouldn't be rid of the lying and cheating Decepticon jerks. If I hadn't gone with him… then it hits me with full force: if I hadn't gone with Sam… I'd never have seen the true face of the 'Cons. I was rid of the 'Cons; they didn't have control over me.

I was free.

**AN: so, I hope you liked the chapter. Cassie is very emotional in the beginning; she's pretty much having a breakdown. But then she dreams of a memory of what had once happened. I just wanted to show that after everything, there were still those eighteen years and even though everything was a lie it still left the biggest mark on her life. It shaped her world and even after what Starscream had said (to keep her safe, but she doesn't know it) he is still the one who had created her world, and people like that, they have a tendency to create you world and then, at least partially, stay there. So ya, she's on a major emotional rollercoaster right now. But bare with me for a little while longer; she's going to start recreating her world now.**

**Anyway, tell me what you thought of the chapter (I cried a little writing the beginning, did anyone else?) and since I have nothing more to say, I will be seeing you next time!**


	15. Chapter 14: staying

**AN: this chapter has also been slightly rewritten. I don't own Transformers; enjoy.**

Ravage slowly walked behind Will, and the whole time, I was subtly shaking. Bee and the twins I'd met a while ago – _met_, and _was officially introduced_ – but the others… all I knew was what the Decepticons told me, and what I'd heard from Sam and Mikaela – which were two extremely different things, so basically, I knew nothing. I had no idea whatsoever what to expect. I'd _seen_ them, but I can't say I actually _met_ a single one. Bee, Skids, and Mudflap were the only Autobots I had any interaction with _in my life_, and basing my knowledge of the Autobots on what Starscream had said… I'm not going to lie: I was terrified. But Will was with me, and I knew that he would never let them hurt me.

The doors to the gigantic hangar opened, and Lennox led me into the room. Instinctively, my grip on Ravage's back tightened, and every cell in my body was prepared to defend myself, and if I can't do that, run. My heart rate went up drastically as I eyed the seemingly normal, decorative, exclusive vehicles stand silently, looking ordinary and harmless. But I was no idiot, I knew better. In any moment, they would spring to life, becoming the death machines that they are. They were dangerous, as dangerous as the Decepticons, and we didn't have some sort of safety law hanging over me, so should they choose so, they would kill me.

I bite the inside of my lip, ready to bolt for it at any given second. Underneath me, I heard Ravage growl quietly; but it wasn't a threatening growl, it was more a cross between that and a purr. It was meant to tell me to calm down. But even if Ravage said so, I refused to let my guard down, especially in the presence of these things that could kill me without even noticing it; and all the bother it would be to them, is the blood stain I would leave.

"Relax kid, they won't hurt you." I ignore Will, having no desire to let go of my alertness and awareness. I was not going to give them a single crack of space. They were not catching me off guard… or catching me at all. Will climbed the stairs up to the platform which was obviously for eye-level communication with the metal monsters, and Ravage followed. I leaned into his back, holding on as the stair were nearly vertical. The platform shrinks considerably now, with the tiger-sized Ravage tying to cram into the space that was designed to hold humans. But being the Cybertronian equivalent of a cat, he is very graceful, and is able to fit comfortably for everyone – except for Will, who looks like he's looking at a demon that is about to eat his soul.

Ravage kneels down, letting me get off, and I do, petting him as he stands up. I gently run my hand from the top of his head, down along his back, than when I can't reach farther without moving, I bring my hand back to his head. I do a scratching motion with my finger over his head and he nuzzles into it, purring in delight. Amazing how of all Cybertronians I have met, aside from Starscream, I loved the scary, monster-like creature that was Ravage the most. At first, he would scare me; like when he would come into my room in the middle of the night, with his one red eye, glowing in the darkness. He wasn't the only one who did it, but he _was_ the only one who didn't do it to keep me from sleeping all night, by sitting in the farthest, darkest corner of the room, and watching my all night, making the creepiest sounds ever. I swear, those guy were straight out of a child's worst nightmare. Actually, they were straight out of _anyone's_ worst nightmare. I mean, can you imagine trying to sleep when you have a pair of bloodthirsty red eyes staring directly at you all night? They were some shit directly from Nightmare on Elm Street.

"Ready?" Lennox asks me with a worried look.

"Can I really be?" I reply with a question of my own. Of course I'm not ready; I'll never be. I don't want to have to meet them. But I do have to; if I'm going to survive another few years, I have to stay here, under the protection of the solders. And ya, I guess it makes me a user, but I would rather use them than be killed off because of my treachery. So if I am to stay here, being around Cybertronians is going to be part of the deal. Will nods his head at me, and I find that I don't even need to slip into the roll or a scared teenager, because I already _am_ a scared teenager. But at least starting today, I can go by my real first name, and by the name my mom wanted to originally give me, but never got the chance to.

Then Will nods to the cars, and one begins to slowly shift. I clench the rail so hard in fear, I'm afraid it might snap in half, because the one that begins to shift is the one I know to be the infamous Optimus Prime. It suddenly feels as if I have an elephant sitting on my chest. I can't breathe, and as I glance down, I find my knuckles white as paper. I grit my teeth, biting my lip to the point where I get the familiar taste of my own blood on my tongue. I try my hardest not to jump when I feel a hand on my shoulder, turning to find Will there, giving me a worried look. Reluctantly, I loosen my grip, but back away to the safety of Ravage.

The cleverly painted in flame, metallic giant stands to his full height, his eyes blue and cold as ice. How easy it would be for him to kill me and not even notice; to turn me into a satin on the floor without notice. My breath quickens as he steps closer to the platform and I back away further, only to have the back of my knees hit something, and I fall, landing on Ravage's back.

Optimus stops, looking at me intently, making my blood freeze in my veins. I search his face, finding the cleaver demeanor that has everyone fooled into believing him to be the good guy. I grit my teeth again, in disgust at his lies. He could as well have killed his own planet by having that precious Alspark of theirs destroyed. He would rather his race go extinct than have his planet rebuilt and brought back to life.

"Abby, it's ok, he won't hurt you." And how, pray tell, do you know that, Will? How do you know that he won't hurt me? What's to stop him from killing me right here, right now, huh? But I don't say any of that out loud; instead, I stand up, trying to look brave.

"Please don't be afraid, young one," the Prime says, sounding _nothing_ as what I had expected. There is no dislike or disgust or anger or hatred, or _any_ negative emotion. His voice is smooth and low and kind and concerned and _everything_ that it wasn't supposed to be. It's a trick, a lie, just like everything, I remind myself, it's an act. "My name is Optimus Prime."

"Abby Spenser," I say in dead voice. It's been like that since Starscream tried to kill me; after he took away everything I thought I knew. He took away my whole world and my whole life, leaving me with nothing to care about in the world. I had no life in what I do ever since. Everything I do is automatic, zombie-like. When I look in the mirror, all I see is a shell of who I used to be. I'm still beautiful, but my eyes look as though they belong on a corpse. I move automatically, I talk in a dead, hoarse tone; I have little life in me. However, my acting is still better than good, but… maybe acting like a normal human being isn't what I want. How did I not think of it sooner?! Any normal person, going through what happened in Egypt, would walk out not right in the head. So maybe, my condition works with me perfectly. "I'm Abby Spenser," I say hoarsely, my eyes blank and lifeless. "Well, kind of." Will gives me a questioning look, and I go into the story of how I watched my parents die, and how I wasn't really living with my uncle. I through in a few facts to help me out, like that every time Sam came to my house, no one was ever there. I illustrate my story in just the right way, to make me look like an innocent victim, but at the same time, someone who know how to look after herself. Week, but strong, scared but brave. I'm not too much a helpless girl, but I'm no superhero either.

It makes this character believable; real. You have yo balance between the two. I can't have them thinking I'm making myself week to get compassion or favors or whatever, but they need to know that I have nothing to return home to.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. I just snort.

"Don't be. I know I'm not. My parents weren't what you would call 'good people'. I know that I sound like that teen who hates her parents because they make her do homework and chores, but it's true. They lied, they used others, they got people to do their bidding and then tossed then aside with nothing at all," I say, describing my father. Then something comes to mind. How is it, that I hate my father – always have – yet… I loved the Decepticons? They were worse than him, and yet, look at how much and impact losing them had on me, whereas losing my father left no impact on me whatsoever. Why is that? Never mind, I know that answer. Even though it was a lie, they still gave me what my father never did: they cared.

"Abby you can't stay here. It's a top secret military base. I can't have civilians running around here, even you. You aren't supposed to be here."

"I'll earn my stay, then; I'll make myself useful. Will- I'm sorry, Major Lennox, I can't go back out there."

"Abby," Optimus says. They way he say my name, with all that false kindness… it makes me sick. It sounds too much like the Decepticons. "The Decepticons are gone; you are safe." I want to snort. "We can assign you a guardian, you will be safe, I assure you."

"And what about Ravage, huh? The second I leave, you're just going to kill him," I spit at the leader, venom lacing my voice. No, I will never allow them to kill Ravage.

"Fragger deserves it," I hear Ironhide spit as the black Topkick transforms into his walking arsenal self. He makes a few steps forward, coming too close for comfort, and I back away instantly, getting in front of Ravage, who snarls at the black Autobot. With all his guns and cannons, he scares me as much as Prime. My heart rate goes through the roof, and I feel myself pale as he approaches.

"Stay away from me," I hiss, going as far back as the small platform will allow. Prime holds his hand up, and the black giant, how is only a foot or two shorter than Prime comes to a stop, glaring at me as I glare back, shaking in fear of him. A low, angry grown comes from him. "You trust the frigging _Decepticon_, but you don't trust _us_?" I just hiss at him, staring him down. "I said. Stay. Away," I say, echoing his own growl. "As if you're better." Horrible fear shoots through me as he roars, taking for me. Behind me, Ravage knocks me to the ground and jumps over the railing. I lose sight of him, and only become more scared. I push myself up, tackling the railing and leaning over. "NO! You hurt him, I'll kill you!" I scream, reaching a desperate hand to Ravage – who, as I may add, is weaponless. Ironhide activates his weapons, aiming at my Ravage. "NO!" I screech a heart wrenching screech.

"Ironhide! Stand down!" Optimus shouts as I fly down the ladder, jumping in front of my Ravage tears once again – I'm fucking tired of this! – running down my face. "NO!" I wrap my arms around Ravage, holding him close as I sob into him. "Ironhide! I said stand down!"

"And then you wonder why I trust Ravage but not you," I spit, turning my head to look at the robots. "You said the Decepticons kill without remorse. What were _you_ about to do when Ravage was protecting me; against _you_! _He_ was the one protecting me, when _you_ tried to attack me! You make yourself all that! Have you already forgotten Mission City? Forgotten how you tried the stupid All thing in the middle of a populated city? Sam told me all about it!" he really did, "you took the All thing and tried to hide it in the middle of the city! Have you considered for a moment that there were innocent people there? Hundreds of people who were going to be killed and the hundreds more whose lives will be destroyed? Have you thought of those who will never see their sons and daughters; their husbands and wives! What were they? 'Collateral damage'? They were human beings with families who were waiting for them back home! So I'm sorry if I don't feel like being one of those who was killed 'by accident'," I snarl, nuzzling my face onto Ravage's back, and he does the animal imitation of a hug, purring softly. "When Ravage took that shard thing, he was following orders; whose orders were _you_ following?" I ask the Prime, glaring at him. Ironhide makes another step towards me, and I let out a short scream, terror blazing through me. But he freezes.

"You still want to stay here?" Will asks behind me.

"It isn't like I can take Ravage with me, and I won't leave him here with these things. And I'm most certainly not liking the idea of going _out there_ where those other things can get to me. I'll make myself useful, I promise. I'll stay out of the way and not ask any question. I'll sit in my room until I need to do something and keep my nose out of everything, I swear. I won't get in the way or distract anyone. I can work in the kitchen or help out the janitor or something but please don't make me go out there," I plead, the thought of a Decepticon coming after me crawling its way into my mind and making its nest there, filling me with terror. I'd seen exactly what they can do; I know what they are capable of. If they want to kill someone, they do it, and right now, I probably got every Decepticon who ever knew me coming after me. I was a favorite pet and they all hate me for it so now with the agreement of safety terminated, they go on like a bounty hunt or something.

After more begging and pleading and arguing, Will finally agreed to let me stay, but only for a short while; a few months will make me supper lucky. We set a lot of conditions, most of which were the ones I had listed. I would do what I was told, keep out of the way, keep quiet, not ask questions, not complain; I would be an obedient little girl and do what I was told, _when_ I was told. I give one complain and I'm out; I don't do what I'm asked, I'm out; I bother anyone, I'm out; I stick my nose anywhere, I'm out. I would help in the kitchen and – and here I actually dared to put up a fight over – I'd wash the vehicles. They had some workers do it, but they needed more willing hands and since I was pretty much the only civilian here who didn't have something to do, I would help out. I was basically the coffee girl.

If I had free time, I'd stay in my assigned room. I wouldn't get paid for doing anything since it would be considered 'volunteer work'; then again, I had enough money to run a small country for at least a decade straight, so I didn't need them to pay me anything. Besides, we – me, Mikaela, Sam and Leo… oh and Simmons – were given quite the amount of money – especially Sam – for the 'inconvenience' as the government called. Oh ya, the entire planet joining forces to find Sam is an 'inconvenience'; those bastards. The point is, I now had even more money, so it wasn't an issue.

It wasn't my first choice, but it was my best option. I had taken far worse from the Decepticons to let a couple of chores and rules ruin everything for me. I was also supposed to keep Ravage on a short leash. I made sort of a treaty that I would do an exceptional job at anything and I would be allowed to keep Ravage and Wheely – he had nowhere to go, after all. I would keep Ravage under control; he so much as thinks to attack a solder, even if it's to protect me, he's dead. And Wheely has to be kept out of the way. We agreed that he would help me with the cleaning after a wash the cars. He didn't even protest that much. But, in his words, he was doing it for Warrior Goddess – that got a few questions from Lennox and the Autobots. Point is, after hours of debating and arguing and setting rules, I was permitted to stay. But should I step out of line once – or have any of my 'pets' step out of line – and I was out.

Well, that's done; now let's see how much I can handle before they manage to exhaust me to the point of breaking. What they don't know is that I'd spent the last eighteen years training with the Decepticons, and I can take anything they can think of to through at me.

**AN: well? What do you say? Do you like it? I slightly changed it to fit my needs, but not much. Please leave a thought or two about the story; I'd highly appreciate it, and other than that, bye! *waves***


	16. Chapter 15: past and future

**AN: hello dear readers! Thank you for being patient with me. I was really busy and couldn't get around to writing this chapter until a few days back. I so sorry for making you all ways so long, I don't usually do that, I promise.**

**I will really try to update once a week if I can, but at the moment, I'm balancing five stories, so that might be a little problematic. But I swear to try.**

**Anyway, enjoy the chapter and ****THERE IS A REALLY IMPORTANT AUTHER'S NOTE AT THE END****.**

I sigh, trying to be brave. I swallow thickly, wishing that I can swallow the horrible fear as well. But I can't make myself any less anxious. Well, looks like I now know how people with stage fright feel. My feet seem to be glued to the ground, the water bucket and rest of the washing supplies are all in my hands, and making them hurt as hell, but no matter how much I try, I can't make myself move.

Come on, I tell myself, it's ok, they won't hurt you – well, not now, at least, in front of the solders on working the nightshift. Ravage nudges the back of my knees, half in encouragement, and half in annoyance. Why in annoyance? Simple: because I had been standing here, shaking like a leaf in the wind during autumn, ready to fall to the ground, for a good ten minutes, looking like an idiot.

I take a deep breath – for the millionth time – and put myself together. I have been taught better than this to keep my emotions in check. I'm a professional spy, not leaving anyone room for suspicion; I can't allow myself something like this. This is highly unprofessional behavior that I should be ashamed of myself for.

I mask my feeling with a determined look and march out there, trying to maintain my tough façade – beneath which, I'm actually freaking out.

The 'vehicles' that are my reasponability to be kept clean are in a lineup in a vast space that I _think_ is some sort of loading zone or something. It's big enough for all of them to transform and walk around freely. It's right outside the cleaning hangar where all the machinery that requires cleaning is usually parked – Earth and Cybertronian alike. I've already completed washing the actual _cars_ and was now out to do the thing I'd been dreading since my being appointed to this job.

Even so, it was my responsibility, and responsibility was something I knew well. I was in charge of many things back… home, for the lack of a better word. I didn't only spy; I also find what Starscream called slaves and what I called… well… slaves, sort of. They were people less powerful than my dad, but people with some good connections, nonetheless. They had things that we may need. Like for example, I found and hired the best hackers in the world to come work for the Decepticons. Some other people were extremely powerful gang leaders who have or can put people in places where we can get anything we need – like for example, get the police to do something. If we needed people in places to do something, I was the girl to get the job done

And don't even ask how I did it because I won't tell you at gunpoint. All I can say is that I had done things I'm less than proud of in my hilariously short lifetime.

Now, where was I? Oh, right: responsibility. I take a second to take them all in: an electric blue Chevy Volt, Chevrolet Corvette Stingray Concept, and the twins, Chevrolet Trax and Chevrolet Beat – I had to be an expert on cars, for obvious reasons.

I decide to play it safe and go with someone I already know – even if they're a little crazy and get childishly violent when they fight, and believe me; their fighting is extremely childish; mainly because they never, at least to my knowledge, bring weapons into their fights.

I see them more as cat-fights; especially compared to some of the _real_ fights I'd seen. The twins' fighting is more that laughable.

I chew on my lip for a moment, gathering up all the nerves I have, wanting nothing more than to crawl in a hole and die from the embarrassment of being such a coward. "Ok," I say slowly, "ground rules, because I want to make this easier for everyone: please, _pretty-pretty-please_ try to act like actual cars. Don't move unless I tell you to, because I want to finish tonight, not next week. And don't make noise that cars don't make, ok?" None of the cars respond, and I take it as 'yes, we understand', or at least something along those lines. "Thank you. Skids, you first," I say quietly, motioning to the bright green car, who wordlessly gets out of line and drives out into the open as I walk to the halfway point.

I give Ravage one, desperate look which he returns with a one of boredom and annoyance, and I sigh in defeat, starting on my job. I wash the vehicle first with just plain old water to get rid of any dust or dirt that can be taken off with only that, all the while, skillfully keeping my shaking out of view or feel. I put on a brave face, as I had so many countless times over in my life. I don't let myself falter in any way, trying harder than ever to hide my fear.

Fear. It honestly isn't a familiar emotion to me. I have always been so confidant in myself and what I do. I knew that I was best at it. Fear was brutally beaten out of me long ago, and when Starscream discarded me, rightfully calming me to be a traitor, was the first time I felt genuine, pure _fear_ in all my life. I mean, I'd been scared before – years ago, possible a full decade back – but not to that extent.

Truth be told, I was more scared then, than I am now. Back then, I felt more fear then ever; and it wasn't any fear I had ever expected to feel: the fear of hurting my family. And it's stupid and I know it, because they aren't my family, and they ever were, but it was my perfect little illusion in which I mattered to someone. Guess it was always just that, wasn't it? A sweet illusion.

Oh well, I'll survive. I always have. Barricade has always called me an earthworm: no matter how much you do to me, it's never enough to kill me, and I always end up crawling away alive. You can't kill me… and I have Starscream to thank for that.

Ok, no, don't go there; don't think about him. He's in the past, remember? He left you.

_Ya, after you betrayed him._

No, Cass, you did nothing wrong.

Oh Primus, I'm talking to myself. _And_ I'm using Cybertronian words. I need a life. I've so far, more-or-less successfully managed to keep my vocabulary ninety nine percent Earth-language. Apparently, that won't be the case much longer. Just Primus forbid I say any of it out loud. Ok, ya I definitely need to do sorting about that; totally inacceptable.

I start washing the radiant-colored car with soapy water, memories of my old life filling my mind. I had washed Decepticon alt. modes countless times. Hell, I'd even washed Starscream's. My father, of course, never did that. He was too classy to ever drop to such a low level. I, on the other hand, have been washing cars since I was ten. Amazing how much has changed since then.

I feel something nudge me and look down at Ravage, who has pulled me, thankfully, out of my thoughts. And only just now I realized that I had frozen in place. Oops. Argh, I just know they all want to give me the 'what the hell is your problem, fleshbag?' look. So before I get into trouble for not taking my job seriously, I return to washing the car. I get all the spots; make sure every inch is cleaned. And then I rinse him off, and repeat the process once more, getting every bit of dirt off.

Oh how I have trained my body. I learned to keep my heart rate under control, learned to only show the emotions I want. I'd taught myself to show the signs of a lie, when I want people to think I'm not being honest. I'd learned to say just the right thing, and look in just the right places to make every bit of an act believable. So well, in fact, that once I was don't washing Skids, I nearly had myself fooled into believing that I wasn't scared. I had nearly convinced myself that I was washing a real car.

But it didn't last for too long. I remembered where I was and what I was doing, and came back to reality. I step away from him, staring at him for more than a moment indecisively. I was stuck; seriously stuck. On the one hand, I had a job to do, on the other, there was no way I was getting under the car to clean the underbelly; I couldn't do it. My bravery and emotional control only went so far. This was far past my limits. There was no way I could do it.

I look up, looking around as of to look for something, without knowing what it is. My eyes found the hangar and it hit me. "WHEELY!" I call out into the night, "get you're a-ass out here!" I make it seem as though my voice cracked, and continued the sentence on a scared note, when really, I nearly slipped up and said 'aft'. Damn it, I'm not supposed to know that word, I'd 'never hear it'! Stupid, stupid, stupid! I mentally shake my head; at both him and I. At me because I nearly forgot about that and at him because he's been hiding in the hangar all night, trying to avoid doing any work. Sorry dude, no such luck.

Wheely comes out of his hiding place, driving over to me, transforming just before he gets to me to avoid bumping into me. I kneel down to nearly optic-level with him. "Listen, I need to clean the bottom of the car; I can't do it. You do it for me," I say, trying to be friendly, but then I become extra serious. "And Wheely, if you mess up; if I get a single complain about what you did, or didn't do, I will burn your other eye out; am I making myself crystal clear?" I give him a deadly look, knowing that if he messes up, I'll be the one facing the consequence. He nod quickly, uncomfortable under my glare, and gets to work instantly. I still have to fix his first eye, so if the other eye is gone, he'll be left blind. And side thought: why did he call me a Warrior Goddess? I'm not some super hero. I mean, look at me; I'm a complete wimp; lost and confused and scared.

Back on track. I bite my lip and motion to Mudflap. "Your turn," I say quietly, my body feeling like a dummy. One down, three to go. I think I'll wash the Stingray next, and then the Chevy. Yes, and when I'm done, it'll be close to dawn… maybe. It's already been an hour and a half out here, and four hours since the beginning of my shift.

I go to refill my bucket with clean water, and grab another sponge and more soap and walk back across the… I'll call it a cleaning areal since I have no idea what it really is. Mudflap is already parked and waiting for me not too far from his brother. With a deep breath, I start on the other twin, again, first soaking the exterior with water to partially get the girt off before starting to actually clean the car.

After only about twenty minutes, someone taps me on the leg. I look down to see Wheely, and then across the Skids. Ok, figures; Wheely is done. "Skids, you can transform and examine you armor or whatever. And when you're satisfied, you're free to go." I know he'll be satisfied with my work. I'd washed too many Decepticon alt. modes to not do a good job in washing a car.

I cautiously turn back to the matter at hand and continue where I left off, all the while listening carefully to the sound of shifting gears and metal hitting against more metal. It's a sound I'd recognize anywhere. I don't met anyone see how much I'm panicking on the outside. I keep my heart rate in check, and my breathing steady. I hear him say something behind me, but pay little to no attention to the words. I can't afford being distracted; the sooner I'm done, the better it is for everyone.

I continue my work, concentrating on what I'm going, and before too long, I'm finished. "Wheely, get your ass back here, you aren't done!" I hear him drive towards me, cursing me in Cybertronian. I refrain from chuckling at that. I had a pretty good idea of what he was saying… but Abby didn't.

God damnit! Why is Abby gotta be so plain and wimpy?!

With an internal sigh, I wave it off, focusing on the matter at hand and hand the 'car' over to Wheely and call on the Stingray, which I know to be Sideswipe.

* * *

I stand at the entrance to the hangar, with my arms crossed over my chest, Ravage at my side. He nudges the back of my knees with his head and I look down. "What do you want, beasty?" I tease. He nudges my again, this time harder, and this time, I stumble forward. "Hey!" I say, "What was that for?"

He purrs, rubbing his side against my leg like an Earth cat, and then looks up at me. I roll my eyes. "There," I say, placing a hand on his head and scratch behind his metallic ear. "Was it so hard to ask? You had to push me? You could be nice, you know." He gives a prowl that resembled 'whatever', and I roll my eyes again.

"There you go," I say, scratching behind his ear and trail my hand down his back lovingly. He purrs; a sound not uncommon, but strange nonetheless, coming from him. He's an assassin, raised to kill with no remorse. Hearing him purr is strange – not out of place, just strange; unusual.

No, purring is… It's not 'Ravage', but it _is_ 'cybercat'. Beneath the hard exterior of killing and sparklessness – yes, it's a word (not really, I actually made it up… I think) – he's a lost kitten in need of a loving hug. He's been living in the war all his life, it wore him down. Everyone needs to be loved and he, quite frankly, was getting little of that. His master, Soundwave… I don't think he has any emotion. He took good care of Ravage, but he lacked that _love_ element. Ok, in truth, I don't really know. He may have loved Ravage in his own way; who knows.

But he lacked that emotional element that I show – even though all my life I've been trying hard to suppress it. I suddenly smile at an amusing thought. It's not a real smile as much as an acknowledging smile.

Funny how of all creatures to choose to love, I chose Ravage. This beastly creature that I have seen kill with no remorse or regret whatsoever. And yet, I saw something in him. Every time I looked into his optic I saw something… _desperate_ in it; something needing. He needed to be loved; needed to be given time and care. He needed to know that someone cared about him.

And I was more than willing to give him that. I was very willing to love him and care for him. And apparently, he was willing to do the same for me.

I kneel down, hugging him, and stroke his neck. "I'm right here, boy. I'm here, with you. I'm never going to leave you," I say. A word of advice: if you love someone, tell them; you might not get another chance.

Then I pull away and look up to the one who is watching me. Turns out, it's Arcee. I stand up cautiously, giving her a half-questioning, half-warning look, trying to tell her to not come too close. "He-hello," I say, "may I help you?"

"What? Oh, no. I was just uh…"

"Watching me? Judging me? Judging Ravage – just like everyone? Sorry if it sounds rude," I quickly apologize, feeling a little guilty. I didn't mean it to come out harshly. She didn't do anything to me; she was just standing there and looking in my direction, not doing anything hostile.

"Oh, no, it's ok; really. And no, I was not judging you or Ravage. I was uh…"

"You weren't expecting to be caught looking," I state lightly. She nods shamelessly and I give her a small, unreal, lifeless smile. "It's ok. So what do you want?"

"Nothing much. I just… saw you standing and thought you might want company."

"Did someone put you up to this?" I ask suspiciously. Why is she talking to me? She shakes her head. "No, I just… are you alright?" I give her a look like 'are you kidding me? Do I look alright to you?' and she raises her hands in surrender. "You're right; you are no alright. But you're going to be," She assures softly. I raise my eyebrows at that.

"How would you know that?" I ask, making sure I don't sound rude. I really don't want to be rude to her, just want to know what's in this for her.

"Samuel was alright." I nearly snort at that.

"Trust me lady, he was far from alright. He died. He might be ok in the future, but right now, he's looking at constantly consulting a military therapist for probably the next year. He might look alright on the outside, but he's a civilian, not a solder; he's not alright. And believe me, deep down, he never will be. You don't die and come back to life and walk away like nothing happened." She nods her head, but looks confused. "And I know that because I'm pretty sure that actually dying is worse than seeing someone else die," Is ay, implying me 'family'.

The confused look is replaced by one of sorry. "I'm sorry about what happened," She says. Aaaand now I feel a little guilty. I mean, she's sorry about nothing at all, that never happened. My family never died, but I made her feel sorry for me. And now I'm angry.

I give her an irritated look. "I don't need your patty," I snap angrily. I don't need anyone's pity. I can handle myself full well on my own.

"Sorry; I'm just trying to help, you know," She says, crossing her arms. Did she just… am I getting attitude from her? Oh no she didn't.

"Well I didn't ask for your help. If I need help, I can ask." Oh God; just shut up, you idiot! She's trying to be nice to you! Stop being such a bitch. "Sorry, I'm not myself," I quietly apologize, bowing my head in shame. But I look right back up when I hear her… is she chuckling?

"I'm sorry, too" She apologizes. "And it's ok; I can see you're stressed. This all must be a lot for you to handle."

"You have no idea," I say. Only she gets it the wrong way, as she is supposed to. Oh it's a lot for me alright, just not in any way they imagine.

"You'll be ok, I promise."

How do you know?" I ask skeptically.

"Samuel and Mikaela have been through this twice; and they're dealing with this far better than expected," she states, trying to make a point… or to shame me out of being a total wimp. Oh God, I'm a wimp! Just like Abby! Oh no!

Ok, relax and think of a comeback. "Well, that's once more than me."

"A valid point; and they both knew about us for much longer than you have." Oh boy, if only you knew how wrong you are, dear Arcee. And you know what? She's right. I _am_ going to be alright. I'm going to cut the crap and man up and stop being such a blonde. I'll get over myself; after all, I've been trained for this my entire life. I have no weaknesses. I don't cry of complain or whine about anything. I'm a Decepticon spy; I can take anything that is thrown at me, including this.

"So… is there a particular reason you're talking to me? Or do you just feel sorry for me? Because if you are, don't waste your time."

"No; and there is no need to be rude," she says, her tone harsh, and I'm once again reminded that she's just being trying to be friendly and make me feel better about all of this. "Sorry," I say, shrinking in on myself in shame. "I didn't mean it to come out that way."

She sighs and wheels over to stand next to me, looking at the Autobots, who are minding their own business outside. "Look, I know it's hard, but please, try to believe me on this; we won't hurt you. The Decepticons… they're gone. They won't find you here. And we never harm humans… not intentionally. What you said… you were right; there is always collateral damage, but we mourn ever soul. One of the reasons we hate the Decepticons is that they don't value life. Abby, to us, all life, big or small, is precious. You all deserve to live and be free; that's what we fight for here. Our world was torn apart by war; it's gone. But your world has hope. You still have much to discover. You may grow in many ways and we have to right or desire to take that away from you. We would never hurt you, Abby; all we want is to save you. You gave us a home and friends; you're world gave us a family; and family always protects one another." My heart skips a beat, a wave of sadness and disappointment washing over me.

"Ya…" I say, too sad to say anything else. Ravage nudges me and I look down at him, to see him give me a reassuring look. He knows exactly what I'm thinking about. I give a sad smile, telling him I'm fine.

I look out to the night sky, the stares a perfect blanket of diamonds in it. My heart begins to race just looking at them. Twinkling and shining out across the galaxy; I get uneasy and soon feel trapped. I look down at my feet, willing them to leave the ground; willing my arms to turn into wings and take me to the stars.

Look at them; so great and brilliant and beautiful, lighting the night sky. Somewhere out there is Cybertron, floating lifeless. It was so beautiful once, I'm sure of it. Cybertron was always an 'off limits' topic; I don't even know where it is. But I know it was once absolutely, perfectly breathtaking.

Then I feel Ravage leave my side and look down to see him not there. I look around to see him on my other side, looking expectantly at Arcee. "No; don't even think about it," She warns, pointing a finger at him. He lets out a small purr, looking at her with a wide optic, almost pleading. He got that from the second Shrek movie. He's used it on not only me, but _Decepticons_ and it worked. The two-wheeler is done for.

"No; I'm not going to touch you. Just because I'm civil with you, doesn't mean I hold any liking to you. Get away from me, Decepticon." He only purrs more, giving her a sad, hurt look. She glares back.

They have a staring contest until one finally breaks, and that one is, of course, Arcee. She gives a furious growl and leans down, scratching behind his ear. I almost laugh at that.

He rubs his side against her, enjoying the attention that she can't help but give. Oh boy, I've shown him far too many cute cat movies. Shrek two was a big mistake.

But the scene begs the question: "Arcee… why are you not hostile to him, like everyone else?" I ask. She looks up, continuing to spoil Ravage. She gives me a small shrug.

"He saved my sister; he shot at the Decepticon, causing him to miss, and in doing so, saved her."

"So… you have some sort… mutual understanding or something? A truce?"

"I guess you can say that. I'm a femme of honor and as much as I dislike admitting it… I own him her life. So I am not and will not be cruel to him."

"Ok… figures," I say, nodding my head. There is an awkward silence while she pets Ravage. Then he gets board and leaves her, returning to my side, and I pet him. We stand in extremely awkward silence for a long time, me watching the stars, and Arcee stealing glances at Ravage and I.

And then the sky appears to be lighter. Dawn is nearing. Shift's over, gotta go. "Well…" I say awkwardly, having no idea how you excuse yourself in front of Autobots. "I uh… I gotta go. The night is almost over so… ya… I'm sorry, I gotta go," Well, this is not at all awkward.

Arcee turns to me, giving me an amused smile. "Abby… You'll be alright, trust me. They won't hurt you; ever. You can do it. I saw you in Egypt; we all did. And back at the camp, Sam told us all about you; when you were unconscious. Sam told us how you fought, and how you protected Ravage and how you fought. You're very strong. You'll be alright." I give her a small nod and go back inside, Ravage next to me.

But before I can take three steps, I hear a loud crashing noise behind me. I noise I really hate to recognize.

**AN: ok, I rewrote this chapter, and I really hope you like it. I really want to make her close with the triplets, but not too fast. I think she'll be comfortable with them first because they're girls, and they have their own mindset and way if acting and all that.**

**And oh-oh. The conversation was fine and normal until that seemingly harmless comment about family. Ouch, that really struck a chord too close to home with poor Cassie. Also, I can't remember if I mentioned this before, but I've changed – in my mind – how Cassie looks: Nina Dobrev with curly blonde hair.**

**On a more important note: ****_I NEED A BATE READER_**** so if any of you volunteer, I will love you forever. I really need a second pair of eyes to look at this, and also my knowledge of the Transformers fandom is limited to the movies. All my knowledge of the fandom I get from the tree films. I hadn't watched the series; in fact, I hadn't heard of the movies until the second movie came out, and only took real interest in them after the third.**

**SO I NEED A BETA! Please guys! If you want, let me know. I really want to make this story the best it can be.**

**So until next time, which I honestly hope will be very soon. Buy!**


	17. Chapter 16: stay away

**AN: hello everyone; here is another chapter. I just want to take a moment to thank ****Khalthar**** for offering to beta this story; thank you so much. And thank you to the rest of you who like this story so much; I'm so glad that you do!**

**And so, without further ado; I don't own Transformers; enjoy:**

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! _NO_! Damnit! Are you fucking kidding me?

I turn around to see the twins, Skids and Mudflap, fighting with each other. I normally wouldn't mind – I wouldn't care at all – but they'll be dirty! I just washed the two of them! I get out of the hangar, jogging a safe distance away from the fight, raising my arms in an 'are you fucking kidding me?' gesture, with my mouth hanging open in an 'O'.

"Seriously? Come on, I just cleaned you! Can't you wait until tomorrow to get dirty?" I screamed at them angrily. I can't believe these guys. The 'Cons would do this same thing to me: I'd clean them, and then they'd just get themselves all dirty all over again just to make my life more difficult than it already was. I can't believe this; can- can you believe this?

The two 'bumper cars' as Leo put it, go back and forth, pushing and shoving each other like a pair of children over a lollipop, and a piece of gum, calling each other names. One says that other is ugly, so he retaliates by saying they share the same face, therefore the first is calling himself ugly, too, and so forth. They kick each other around and begin to wrestle, and it isn't long before I'm re-watching the scene from back in the temple in the mountains of Petra. They begin tossing each other around, and no one does anything. In fact, the rest of the Autobots out here are laughing and taking their time to enjoy the match.

I can't believe this. Well, at least it isn't as violent as with the Decepticons; by now, they'd start shooting each other's faces off and chopping each other up with blades and so on. I'd been caught in those on various occasions, and every time, I was bedridden for days, and sometimes even _weeks_. They'd fight, and then see me, and before I knew it, I was being flicked around like a dummy. But of course, I always made the best of it, and looked at it as training.

This was different though. It was different because no one would get their aft beat to the pit and back if they hurt me too much. If I end up in that primitive facility we humans call a hospital, no one would care one tiny bit.

I tug on the hem of the shirt they gave me here, glaring at the twins. Come on guys! Do you really gotta do that? "Come on guys, please, can you show some appreciation for the hard work I'd put in and try to not get all dirty a few minutes later?!" I plead desperately. Nope, no such luck. And did I seriously just beg? Oh God, what happened to me? Who am I and what did I do to Cassandra? Cassandra doesn't beg anyone _ever_. Oh, right, I'm Abby right now.

And dazing off into thought was the biggest mistake I have yet made in my short time here: Mudflap shoved Skids to the ground; Skids got up, grabbed Mudflap's legs, and swung him around like a bat. Only Mudflap kicked Skids, who, in turn, let go and – since in their little ballet number, they got close to where I was standing safely off to the side, _of course_ – Mudflap went flying directly at me.

I feel dead; like a zombie. I can't think properly, or register my surroundings. I know my flight instincts are screaming for me to run and hide, but I feel like my feet are glued to the ground. I feel someone push my leg, but I don't move. I'm like a dummy, frozen numbly in place as Mudflap hits the ground and rolls in my direction thanks to Newton's stupid law of motion; particularly the one about inertia or something – I never paid attention in class.

Something sharp tugs on my arm, and it brings me back to my senses. Instantly, I feel like a deer caught in the headlights of a car speeding down the highway. I feel my face assume a horrified expression and I attempt to take a step back, but fail when I trip over my own feet in panic, and feel the rush of falling.

That all happens in less than a second, and I feel like I see my life flash before my eyes; everything that ever happened to me and everything that might happen in the future. But the most vivid thought I have, is actually an image; a metallic face, with warm red optics; so familiar and terrifying, yet kind, in their own strange way.

And then I'm snatched off the ground so fast that my ears painfully pop at the speed with which I'm lifted into the air. My head spins, disorienting me and to me, it's a frightening feeling. I feel like the world spins around me and for a long moment, I don't know where I am – which is never good.

Then the whole weight of the situation dawns on me: I'm in someone's fist.

Worse: I'm in an Autobot's fist. Then, the moment the realization hits, I let out a short-lived shriek, with my heart and mind racing against time itself. I'm being held by a Cybertronian.

It's not anyone I know personally. I know this because I can see the twins being separated by Jolt, and Sideswipe is standing off to the side, watching the whole thing. Bee left with Sam, Mikaela, and Leo. This doesn't leave much. Ratchet is probably in his Med Bay and it can't be any of the triplets – I'm _far_ too high up for that and the fist I'm in is pretty huge. That narrows it down to two.

So I turn around to look at my captor and it takes me no longer than a second to register the world around me.

I'm in the Prime's hand.

I'm in the _Prime's_ hand.

I'm in the Prime's _hand_!

Oh dear Lord and Primus and whoever the hell else is up there, watching us all: _I'm in the Prime's hand_!

I let out a shriek of absolute terror, thrashing like a maniac every which way, while screaming my head off. I struggle uselessly to try to free myself, fear washing over me like liquid fire.

"NO! No, put me down! Put me down, don't touch me; you have no right to touch me! Let me go!" I scream desperately.

Probably not the best choice of words. If he lets me go, it's an awful long drop to the solid ground. Nothing I haven't been through before; oh no, far from that, but no matter how many experiences you have with breaking bones, you never get used to it, and it's not an experience I want to go through any more than I already have.

No, I can't die. Dying is not an option. If I die, they'll be able to kill Ravage and I can't let them do that. He just freed himself from the Decepticons to become neutral. He can't just die like that, not after finally gaining his freedom. I can't die, not at the hands of this cruel monster; this… _cold sparked killer_. I can't die at his hands, or die _at all_, I– … am standing on the ground?

It takes me a long moment to realize that my feet hit the ground and the huge, metallic fingers uncurl, letting me go. The moment the hold around me is gone, I less than gracefully tumble to the ground, hair spread over my face, hiding it… and hiding the world from my sight.

_Never turn your back on the enemy. The moment you are not looking, they will strike!_

A familiar voice rings through my head and I instantly jerk into action, flipping myself over to face them. Lying on the ground, I was very vulnerable, and from down here, they all seemed so much bigger.

In fear, I start trying to crawl away backwards before rolling over onto my knees and taking off as fast as my feet can take me, towards the hangar. The only problem is; in my fear and hurry, I trip, and go flying right back into the ground. I curl up into a ball upon impact, and roll on a little, coming to a stop on my hands and knees before the magnitude of what just happened dawns on me:

I was in the infamous Optimus Prime's fist. He was holding me in his fist. I could have died four seconds ago. I start to shake uncontrollably and my elbows give away. I cash to the ground, limp, tears streaming down my face. I could have _died_ six seconds ago. I could have _died_. My tears break into a steady wail full of fear and shock.

Tucking my arms underneath me, I push myself up, sitting on my knees, and grab my blond curls, tangling my fingers in my hair. I start choking on my sobs, so I try to take deep breaths to calm down. This is not happening; this is _not_ happening! Then I notice how quiet it is out here. There isn't a single sound to be heard other than the ones I'm making.

Holding my breath, I twist around to find Ravage in front of me, his back turned, poised and ready to strike at the Autobots at any moment, but he isn't growling. Several yards in front of him stands the enormous Optimus Prime, looking at me with those icy cold blue eyes. They dart around me as though he's lost, unsure of his further actions. Skids and Mudflap are being held in place by Jolt, mouths hanging open, and Sideswipe is… still standing where he was and every single one of them is looking at me as if I've lost my mind.

The twins break the dead, confused silence first. "Yo man, wat's wrong wichu? Skids asks, giving me a weird look. Jolt lets go of them and they stumble forward, catching themselves. I start feeling suffocated, and realize I was holding my breath. I let it out, gasping for air, choking back a sob.

I stand up, knotting my hands in my mess of hair, hyperventilating. Tears roll down my face; hysterical, uncontrollable tears of fear, and I'm trembling like a leaf in the wind. I feel like I mentally blacked out because I know something is happening but I don't register it. I don't comprehend anything at all. All sounds mix into a choir of strange noise, far in the back of my head, and colors blur into one. I feel nauseous, like I'm going to throw up right here and now, in front of everyone out here.

But before I can think of anything else, the world shifts back into focus and the first thing I notice is the Prime, shifting his weight, and on impulse, I take it as a threat. "Stay away from me!" I scream up at him, my voice thick and shaky. "Just-… just stay away! Don't touch me!" I begin taking deep, wheezing breaths, my head spinning dizzily, just as the world around me is doing. My fingers once again tangle in my hair as I try to get control over myself, but fail miserably and instead, crash to the ground on my knees, wailing and shaking my head in fear.

No. No, no, no; No this… this isn't happening! Oh God… "Just stay away; don't touch me. Please!" I wail desperately, "Please just… just don't touch me."

I burry my face in my hands, away from view. God, I am so humiliated. What would Starscream say if he saw me right now? Look at me: I'm at the mercy of Autobots, on the floor, and _crying_. **God** I am so _sick_ of crying like a coward. Weak. Pathetic. Makes sense why he called me mediocre: I've become a miserable coward who can't keep herself together!

I just wanted to be left alone to my shame. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. I was so embarrassed of myself for being so weak as to show such fear. I'd never shown fear; not like this. This was pathetic and disgraceful.

I feel someone approach; it's Ravage. He nudged me with his hip, as if to say 'suck it up and cut the crap. You're better than this, so get up before I make you'. He's right; I have to get over myself; I'm bigger than Abby, and I will not fall to her level of low.

With a deep sigh, I put on my best brave face – which is so far from believable that it's sad – and get out of my little hiding place in my hands and hair and look up, sitting on my knees. I look up, blinking rapidly as though trying to be brave – which I am – and breathe deeply.

I hear weight being shifted again behind me and turn around to face the Prime, who looks a little lost. "Abby… I am sorry for frightening you. I assure you, that it was not my intention-"

"-Well you did," I spit. But then a realization hits me like a train: I'm on the ground. I'm on the _ground_; and I'm alive. I'm fine and ok and alive! I'm _alive_! He didn't kill me; he… put me back down on the ground. Why? Why didn't he kill me? Why did he let me go? He had the opportunity to finish me off and he didn't take it. Why didn't he take it? Why didn't he kill me?

I have to remind myself that it's all an act. That of course, if he were to kill me, it would jeopardize the trust that humans give him. He can't kill me unless he wants trouble for himself. But then I think of something else: He got me out of the way. Skids nearly crushed me and the Prime _came out of nowhere_ and just _snatched_ me out of the way. He didn't have to do that, and no one would blame him if he had. I'd just be the biggest idiot who got _herself_ killed because I was stupid enough to get in the middle of a fight. No one would be blamed for it but me so why did he get me out of the way?

Oh, right, of course: so that he can seem like a hero saving someone's life again. Maintaining image – I know a fair bit about that myself.

Without a word, Optimus turns round, transforms, and drives away. I do the same, turning on my heels and walking back to the hangar. As I do, I hear the twins behind me, chattering away at what Optimus did; calling him a ninja and all. I roll my eyes and go back inside, but the evening catches up to me before I can get very far. So I walk over to the trash can and, holding my hair behind me with one hand, bend down, and vomit my guts out. As I do, I make those horrible 'dying animal' noises you make when you barf. Oh God; I hadn't thrown up since I was six. If I ever got sick, I'd just instantly be treated. I'd never been in a situation like this, where I got so scared that I vomited.

My whole body shaking, I wipe my mouth, breathing heavily, and straighten up, hearing the utter silence outside and feeling all optics trained on me. Beside me, Ravage nudges me and kneels down once I look at him. I take that silent but _very_ welcome offer, climbing weakly onto his back and he stands up, walking slowly back in the direction of my room. I lean into his back, lying on it and taking deep breaths though my nose, knowing that if I open my mouth, I won't be able to keep anything down.

With tears in my eyes, Ravage walks farther away from the Autobots, the sun rising behind us. His steady walking creates a rocking motion which slowly… lulls me… to…

**AN: so what do you guys think? Again, thank you all of you, and have a nice day/night!**


	18. Chapter 17: question and answer

**AN: I'm sorry for the long wait, guys. Here is the chapter for you. Also, the cover picture for the story is what Cassie/Abby looks like.  
**

**Spirit Kiss****: you are not being rude; I get why you think so, and don't worry, she's getting around.**

**Miccymellow****: I'm still working on making her more comfortable with the Bots. But she's going to start spending time with Optimus soon, so the relationship… well, I can't say it's close, exactly, but it isn't far away either. What I can promise you all, though, is some interaction really soon.**

**I don't own Transformers; enjoy:**

A week went by in a slow, confusing blur, which was strange since nothing happened. I did the exactly same thing every night. I'd sleep the day away – which would be anyone's dream, now that I think about it – and worked all through the night. I'd quickly adjusted my internal clock to match my work shift, which lead me to realize what an unhealthy lifestyle I'm adopting. I'd sleep during the day, and work the night, and do nothing at all but go down to the dining area to eat. I wasn't used to it at all.

I was a very light sleeper, and the walls weren't exactly thick, so I woke up a dozen times a night – day… you get it – not that having my sleeping hours cut short was anything new. I had never slept too much, but this was different. When I woke up, I didn't have school, or shopping, or training or really anything at all. I didn't even have a phone with me, so I couldn't go on the internet, or listen to music or watch movies. It was absolutely, positively _boring_! And it's only been a single week, and I'd already give anything for a good run, or a game of basketball or _some_ activity to occupy my time. I couldn't just sit around, doing nothing all day. It was A) boring, and B) unhealthy.

That was the excuse I used most, during my time here. I'd eat something, and then I'd go back to my room, and sit still. It was very unhealthy, and as a girl, I cared about that, because doing nothing was not going to do anything good to my figure – and, as a girl, that mattered even more to me.

I've never done this little during the day. I… was… _bored_! I needed to do something active. Sitting around, dong nothing like this was completely unbearable. It has only been a week, and yet I'd already give anything for a chance to go to the gym. Since training wasn't an option – not the kind of training I was used to – I needed to do some form of exercise. Don't get me wrong, washing the cars was hard, and when I went to sleep, I was _tired_, but that didn't last too long.

But I can't say any of that to anyone, because if I complain, I'm out and that's not something I can risk. I was stuck with night shift. And I was going to make the most of it. Here is how I see it: I'm here, at some Autobot base. So I might as well get to know them. Since I never really met Autobots until recently, I needed to learn more about them.

What do I know about them, really? Only what the 'Cons told me. What Sam told me is a polar opposite of what I'd heard my whole life. Why not find out which story is actually true? Starscream always told me to know my enemy, so tonight I've decided to get some answers.

XxXxX

I wince in pain, sucking on my pinky finger. I've done far worse, but let me tell you this: breaking a nail feels like it hurts just as much as breaking a bone. That was the third nail I've broken tonight. I usually wear acrylic nails, but my real nails are pretty strong, so they don't break often, which means when they do, it hurts really badly.

I curse under my breath and pick the dirty sponge off the ground with my other hand, dipping it into the bucket of the already-cold water.

"So…" I start awkwardly, because even though I was the one who requested the silence, it was getting to me. I didn't like working in such quiet. Of course, it was far more comfortable when the cars didn't talk, but I did decide to get some answers, and the silence was making my work harder.

"You've been on Earth for… two years?" I ask the blue Suzuki B-King in front of me. "I mean, you in general; the aliens." Of course I know the answer is no, but they don't need to know that. I did say I wanted to hear their side of the story.

"The Autobots came to Earth two years ago, yes, but our race was here for some time prior to that. The Decepticons had come here first," Chromia answers.

"How do you like it?" I was making lame small talk, and I knew it sounded weak and half-hearted – or maybe that was just me – but it was something.

"It's… different," she says, carefully choosing the word. 'Different', it's a good word; a safe word.

Different…" I echo absently. "And I take it you didn't come here because it looks pretty from space?" I add 'from space' because once you land, the blue-green view changes drastically, and also to lighten the atmosphere. I get what I think is a concealed chuckle from her.

"No."

"And since you were here… all that stuff I've been hearing on the news about like… Shanghai, and Budapest, and all those other places… that was all you guys? You were fighting with the Decepticons?" I ask.

"Yes; they were looking for a piece of the Allspark. It didn't 'sit too well' with anyone," she tells me, using a very human phrase. Autobot, or Decepticon, it was still weird to hear them use such human phrases.

"Ah, yes, Sam told me – in bits and pieces, that is; bits and pieces that I was allowed to know." He wasn't too specific about anything, even though I knew it all already. Still, there were some things I still had to piece together on my own.

Then I snort. "You should have seen and read some of the things people were saying about you guys on the internet. The conspiracy theorists were all over you, saying that you could spit fire and you were kidnapping humans to experiment on them. Some even said that you mutated them to turn them metal, like you. You… you don't do that, do you?" I ask, but I'm not serious, of course.

"People were going crazy over every single video that any of you were caught on. It was like Christmas for the nerds. We even covered it in school."

I'm not kidding; we had a whole class-long discussion over whether or not any of it was real. If you hung out on the internet as much as some of my classmates, you knew everything.

"Well, it does explain you're fear of us, the things that are told of us on the internet," she jokes, and I allow myself a half-hearted smile.

"Yeah," I say, "I guess it does." I'm silent for a short while. "You don't… you know… kidnap…"

"No," she says, half-offended, but half-amused at the same time. "Abby, if you want to continue to stay here, there is something you need to understand. We don't expect you to trust us, and we don't expect you to be friends with us, but we do want you to believe us: we don't hurt humans, never on purpose."

That's what I've been hearing an awful lot as of late.

"I get that, but people still die around you. So is it that wrong to be afraid of you? I mean, you're all so big, and strong' you can hurt us. You don't have to mean it; if you step on us, you won't even notice. And for the record, the excuses the government comes up with for all those cities in the last two years are pretty useless. I mean, you guys ripped Shanghai to shreds; there is no way a gas leak did that."

"Valid point, but-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know: there was no way to _not_ cause damage with whatever it was that happened there. But why do you even bother with cover stories anymore anyway? Anyone with a computer and half a brain knows about you. You can only blame military training and terrorist attacks – which, by the way, no one believes anymore – and gas leaks for so long before people start calling bullshit on all of it. And believe me, people are already beginning to call bullshit on all of it. Soon enough the words 'top secret' are going to be nothing but words. I don't need to know anything about computers to be able to find _a lot_ of things on the net. You've got YouTube, and you've got Leo's website and a tone of others just like it. They're everywhere. The government can't even get rid of all the sites and vids anymore; they just can't keep up with it. And people blame you for nearly everything now: car accidents, and real terrorist attacks and airplane accidents; everything. If a vehicle is involved, they automatically reference you guys. You gotta see why I'd be… prejudiced," I decide 'prejudice' is a good word, "towards you."

"It ain' our fault!" I hear one of the twins cry out, making me jump. My hand flies to my heart, but I quickly calm down, choosing to shoot them both a warning look.

"Maybe it isn't," I agree, standing up to face the line-up of cars standing outside the hangar entrance. "But people don't know that; they just want someone to blame, and an alien is the perfect candidate. What are you going to do? Call up a hearing? Gather witnesses to take your side in court and prove yourself innocent? No, you can't do any of that. Humans _really_ like to blame each other, and now they have a whole new species to blame everything on. You guys can solve the problem with global warming, find a cure for every kind of cancer and disease we've got and they'd _still_ blame find something to blame you for," I say.

"You humans are _mean_!" the other twin shouts at me and I can't help but agree.

"That's just us. What more; if you don't like it, the human race has a very simple answer to that: you don't like us? Then leave. Did the government already try to kick you out? They wanted someone to blame, and you were the first thing they saw." It's their own fault, being as huge as they are.

"Why you gotta be like dat? We ain't no Decepticons; we doin' nothin' to you! We's good, why you gotta be so mean?" one of them – I think it's Skids – complains, and I let out an 'are you kidding me?' laugh.

I roll my eyes, jerking my head to the side a little to get a blonde curl out of my face. First of all, 'we' needs to take some English classes, and second, "humans are stupid, in case you didn't figure that out yet," I tell him, "we can't tell the difference," I say, spreading my arms in a 'well duh' gesture. "I couldn't tell the difference at first," and it isn't an opinion I will ever voice again, thank you very much, "and neither will anyone else. You are both metal, and that's close enough."

And then I realize what I said. I flinch, my arms coming up to my chest, and I close my eyes, waiting for one the Autobots – or more than one – to transform and give me hell for it, but nothin happens. I wait… and I wait… and I wait… and nothing at all happens. I open my eyes, only two seconds later, and the lot is exactly as it was before I close them. If this had happened while I was still with the Decepticons, I'd be learning how to fly right about now, for comparing them, even in the slightest, to the Autobots. But nothing happens.

With confusion, I let myself relax ever-so-slightly, and choose this moment to apologize. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean it that way. I wasn't comparing you, I was simply stating a general fact, that humans wouldn't tell the difference, that all," I try to explain, talking fast, my words coming out faster than they form in my head.

Thankfully, Chromia cuts me off. "Abby, no one is blaming you."

"I know but- wait, what?" I ask in a double-take. I eye at her quizzically. "What do you mean? I mean, last time I compared you with the Decepticons, Ironhide was royally pissed," I say, lowering my voice to hardly over a whisper on the last two words. But I know better than anyone that the Cybertronians hear a lot better than humans. They pick up finer tones, and hear whispers that humans can't pick up unless you're whispering in the person's ear, so I have a feeling that at least a few of them heard.

My suspicion is confirmed when I hear Chromia choke down a laugh. "Ironhide tends to get very…"

"Hot-headed?" Sideswipe offers from his place in the lineup. If it was meant as a joke, it wasn't very funny, not to me, after having a first-hand taste of that hot-headedness.

"Yes; he can get very temperamental at times," Chromia says. "But I assure you, he won't hurt you." I'll dare to argue with that. Mr. Trigger-happy hurt my sleeping hours. Those damn canons came to me in my sleep for three nights after that little 'incident'.

But to his credit, he kept out of my way ever since, so that little incident was the one and only time I had a less than pleasant run-in with him, and I have made it my mission to keep it that way. I sigh in defeat, bending back down to my work. "Ok, whatever you say." What were we talking about before this, again? Oh right; they don't hurt humans.

"So… you've never actually purposely hurt a human before?"

"If I'm completely honest, we've all hurt humans before. In training, for example, injuries are inevitable, but we never bring them harm for the sole purpose of bringing them harm. It really isn't somethin we can help." Chromia says. I start drying the alt. mode, _finally_. Tonight feels longer than usual – maybe it's because I pulled myself together and tried to talk to them.

"Accidents happen," I offer.

"Yes, precisely," she says, and I nod in understanding.

I really can't say my usual 'she's lying' here, because she sounds so sincere. I don't have the heart to call her a liar, even in my head. When she says they don't hurt humans on purpose, I can't help but want to believe her because she sounds so honest. I thought the Decepticons sounded more or less honest sometimes, but this is something I only ever heard from Sam and Mikeala.

"But it's for a good reason," I say. Yeah, injuries during training are something I'm very familiar with.

"Yes," she agrees. I suddenly get the urge to sneak out of my room in the middle of the day, and spy on them while they are all training with humans. I want to see how it is. Compare notes, if you will.

"Ok, but in the field, people still die."

"Yes," she admits, and although I know she isn't hand-in-hand with the human race, but there is still a sorry note in her voice.

She admits the people die because of them, but she's sorry, rather than proud. I wasn't sure what kind of answer I was looking for by asking that question – and now that I think about it, it sounded kind of really dumb – but this wasn't something I was expecting.

I allow myself a thoughtful look, frowning as I finish drying the second car this evening – ok, she isn't a car, but all the same. If anything, bikes are harder to wash, than cars; with all their folds and parts that stick out. You need to get all the little cracks and everything.

"It's a lot to take in, I'm sure," she says softly.

"Yeah, it is. I mean, I heard all this stuff about you, but I never believed it. And then… I really didn't know what to expect," I admit. And I'm not really lying. "But I guess it's safe to say that I was surprised in a good way. Well, not in the first few days, but it isn't too bad at all now." Things were looking up.

There were those two incidents, the first being on the day I was officially introduced, and the second one being the encounter with the fighting twins, and Optimus Prime. But now things were ok.

I finish cleaning her and step aside to let her transform and look over her armor. I feel a lot more comfortable around the triplets. I guess it has something to do with the smaller size. Then again, Alice was small, but _damn_ was she vicious. She was a kitty with one sharp set of claws.

I get Wheely to dump out the water, as he does every night, and refill the bucket while I give my back a nice stretch, groaning when I stand tall and reach up to the sky. I hear my back pop, and then allow myself to let the nasty habit of cracking my knuckles take over.

I take a deep breath, reaching up, and then bend forward, touching my forehead to my knees, had Wheely get the supplies ready for the next vehicle in line. Ahhh… stretching feels so _good_. After a week of sitting, stretching feels like heaven.

I'll _have_ to get some exercise into my daily schedule.

In the meantime, I call on Sideswipe – who seems to get dirty as much as the twins for the sole reason of annoying the hell out of me. He likes his paint a lot. He and his brother, who isn't on Earth yet, are quite famous among the 'Cons for many things, one of which is their obsession with their paint.

I start on him, attempting to sneak in a line or two here or there, but it gets very awkward very quickly, and I shut up. No matter; I'll have plenty to think about when I go to sleep. Somehow, I feel like Arcee was right; I really am going to be ok. I had a full conversation, and with several Autobots at once, for that matter, and it was nothing but pleasant. In fact, talking to them was, in a weird way, fun. It was better than the alternative, that's for sure.

Chromia sounded so sure, so sincere, when she said they wouldn't hurt me, and I really wanted to believe her. I was only here for a very short time, but I had seen none of the violence the Decepticons were talking about. Only time will tell; I needed to get to know them more, to come to a conclusion, but I really, _really_ wanted to believe her. Maybe, just for tonight, I would. And maybe, just maybe, I already kind of did.

**AN: so what do you think? Do you guys like it? I hope you do. She's finally getting around, and her depressed state isn't going to last very long, I promise; maybe a couple of chapters. She's coming back to life, you have my word.**

**Please leave a thought or two about the chapter, and I will see you all soon.**


	19. Chapter 18: My Human

**AN: I'm back with another chapter! I'm really happy that all of you like ABLL so much! I love writing it, and I'm glad that you all like reading it as much as you do.** Scion Nexus Prime**: yes, the Autobots will find out the truth about Cassie, and as to how they will react… you will see soon enough. I'm glad you enjoy this story so much.** Serpentinia Malfoy**: Don't worry; Screamer will make an appearance. I'm not sure exactly when, but he will come back into the story on more than one occasion.** **Also, This story was originally inspired by ****'Twisted'**** by 'SimpleRhapsody. You can find it at **** www . fanfiction s / 7193867 / 1 / Twisted**** (just take away the spaces, and if that doesn't work, I have it in my favorites so you can find it there.** **Enjoy:**

Chapter 18: My Human

Every night, I pushed myself a little, getting myself to say a word or two. I won't lie: it was getting easier and easier, but I couldn't say that I was ok with it. I was still pretty jumpy around the Autobots, and when someone talked suddenly, I would jump. Last night, I even got the hiccups. I guess I should have gotten used to it by now, but no such luck. No matter what I did, I always walking out there, doubting them and everything they ever said.

I felt awful for that, because in the two weeks I'd spent here so far, they didn't show any of the hostility and violence I was expecting from them. They were never cruel or rude or really anything but helpful and warm. They greeted me with warmth I wasn't used to, and wasn't expecting to ever see. I can almost say that I was greeted with _kindness_, which, I have to admit, was the last thing I was expecting of them. They were nothing but niceness, and civility, and understanding.

The incident at the official meeting was the one and only sign of violence I'd seen from any of them, and it was getting to me. I really couldn't understand why they were being so nice when I had done nothing but doubt them. I didn't do anything to earn the kindness. I'm not saying they were _friendly_, but they weren't anything like I was expecting them to be, either. It was beginning to be hard to see them as killers.

And it scared me.

It scared me that there is a ninety-nine percent chance that I actually know nothing about them, and that's very dangerous. When I thought they were like the 'Cons, I felt like I was prepared to deal with them. But now I'm not so sure. A part of me says that it's all just an act, but an even larger part of me says 'why would it be? What are you to them? Why would they bother to pretend around you?' And my old excuses seem less and less likely and believable. It scares me that I can't predict what they will do. I was so used to being able to tell the enemy's next move, that now that I can't, I feel blind and deaf; it makes me feel vulnerable.

It should have made anyone feel better, but it did the opposite; it only stressed me. It put my guard up more and more every day; to the point where I looked over my shoulder repetitively as I went back inside in the morning. This was annoying me to no end!

With a groan, I turn over in bed again, trying to fall back to sleep after waking up the third time tonight – well… this morning. I can't believe how loud the residential area can be!

Back home was no charm either – I still woke up every now and then, usually about a few times a week – but never like this! This was absolutely ridiculous! Half the people worked during the day, and other at night, but apparently, I was the only one who left my room at ten o'clock sharp, every night, came back by dawn; everyone else came and went, and opening and closing doors never stopped waking me up.

I give up trying after a while, quickly becoming bored. I've been wracking my brain for over a week over the Autobots' strange behavior, and now I just give up. I'm done trying to solve this; I'm just too tired for today. I groan and push myself up, reaching up to the ceiling as a few stiff joints pop.

At the sound of my final waking, I hear Ravage stir in the in the small bathroom, making what can be called a yawning sound, and then his sharp claws on the floor. Not a moment later, he slowly saunters out of his place of stay, trying to not brush against anything as much as the shoe box of a room of mine can provide. A soft smile lights my face – a smile that is reserved specifically for this beast. I smile in no one's presence but his. Somehow – but come to think of it, I have a pretty good idea as to why – I can only bring myself to smile in his presence; and his presence only.

"Hey there," I say softly as he walks up to the bed. I turn to him, sitting cross-legged on the mattress and reach my hands out. He walks into them, letting me stroke his head as you would a giant cat – which he technically is… well, sort of. "Look who's up. You recharge well?" I ask, petting him. "Sure as hell hope it was better than mine," I mumble to myself, frowning. "Argh; all this thinking is giving me a headache," I complain, pouting.

Ravage growls, telling me without words, to pull myself together. He does this a lot. He's just looking out for me – and also he isn't a big fan of taking my complaining all the time. I smack him playfully. "If I want to complain, then complain I will. And since I do want to complain; I will do so: my head hurts. I think too much. Things were so much easier when I was just given orders and all I had to do was follow. I never had to make choices and major decisions. I'm just so unfit for having anything be up to me."

I scratch Ravage's head, finding a particularly sensitive spot behind his left ear, and smile, continuing my round of complaining about my situation. "And it also made a lot more sense when the Autobots were just the enemy that I never met. Now I know them, and none of them are what I thought they would be. I mean really; don't get mad at me but… have you seen them be as hostile as they supposedly always are? You've met them before, right? And even if you didn't meet _them_," I say, pointing to the door, referring to the ones on this base, "you've still met Autobots. They were bad, right?" Ravage makes a more-or-less nodding motion. "But none of them are hostile towards us now. Why are they different? Are… do you think they might be acting?"

Ravage moves away, making what can be defined as a shake of his head. No. "But why are they different? Why are they being nice? And they don't sound like they're lying when they say that they don't hurt humans." But I know better than anyone how convincing lies can be spun, and you wouldn't see it, or even suspect it for years; not until it was revealed that it was a lie. I take a sharp breath, thinking of the thing I was trying so very desperately to steer clear of since my stay here began. I bite my lip. _That was the wrong thing to think of_, I tell myself harshly, _don't you know better?_

I shake my head, tying to clear it.

"I'm worried," I say. "I feel like they're trying to get my guard down, to get close to me. But then when I talk to them, I can't believe that anymore. What they say sounds so genuine." I don't dare say that I'm scared of how confusing this all is; I can't admit it, not out loud, not to anyone.

"Do you think that maybe… I don't know… that maybe…" and then I chicken out, not daring ask. "You know what, forget it. It doesn't matter anyway. And don't worry, I won't let my guard down," I promise. I won't give them an inch of space to get to us.

I shift a little, moving to practically sit on my pillow, and pat the space next to me. The bed creaks in protest to his weight as Ravage curls up on it, resting his head on my lap. I pet his head lovingly, and after a little while, he lets himself let out a purr. I smile. "There you go. Don't worry; I won't let them hurt you, I promise."

But that's when a thought comes through – one that I, if I may say, was trying to ignore. What if it was true? What if it was really ok here? Arcee did, after all, pet him. And he walked away completely unhurt. Then again, she did say they had a kind of truce, or something. Still, she could have hurt him, and no one but me would have anything against that. Yet she chose not to. I guess that does say something. For now, all I can really do is try to talk to them; try to understand them. Maybe then things will make a lot more sense.

**(RPOV)**

Should someone have told me two earth years ago that this is what I would look like right now, I would not have hesitated to tear them to pieces for attempting to humiliate me. _Me_; a ruthless beast, raised, and trained, and _programmed_ to kill.

And yet, here I lay, sacrificing everything that makes up my pride for the… actually, I've long since lost count of how many times I had allowed this to be done to me. I've never lost count of anything before: not the Autobots I had killed, not the humans I have shredded, not even the solar cycles I'd lived, but I had lost count of this. And it was all to be blamed on the human girl. Worse yet, I couldn't find it in myself to mind, or even care about that one bit!

And yet, I was in the Well of Sparks at this very moment; a place I find myself more and more should mean nothing to me; her and her worthless 'problems'. I shouldn't care for her troubles, her sleepless nights, or phobias. I shouldn't care for her complaints, worries, or feelings.

Key word: _shouldn't_.

That isn't a possibility for me. Strangely enough… it never was. Since the very first moment I had laid my optic on her, I couldn't turn my back on her. She was so small and disgustingly, _terrifyingly_ fragile and squishy and pinkish-yellow and disgusting… and so very, _very_ breakable. She was so weak that it didn't matter how hard she tried to remain strong. She was so weak, that it disgusted me.

I didn't even know it then, but when I looked at her for the first time, I saw myself: scared and alone, hiding behind a strong, ruthless, cold facade, while trying to look bloodthirsty and unbreakable. Someone with nothing to lose, and the thrill of killing to gain. But in reality, she was a lost cyberkitten, who needed motherly love and affection. She needed to know that someone actually cared.

And from that moment on, I was protecting her; keeping her as safe as I could without embarrassing myself in front of the rest, giving her the time and attention she so desperately needed and craved; giving her something I remember giving to no one else… love.

I am a predator; I prey on the weak! That is who and what I am! An assassin, a killer; I harbor no guilt or remorse for my actions! And yet I let her near me. I let her touch me, let her talk to me freely; I allowed her to be free with me. I allowed her to play with me – and I would never admit to enjoying the time myself – and made her laugh like a Sparkling, over the most innnocent of things. I let her feed me, and tease, me and treat me as an equal. I didn't attack her, and have never hurt her in any way. This human girl who would straddle me like a _pony_ and ride around, mortifying me to no end; who treated me as a pet, rather than the reverse. She tamed me as one does that Earth animal called a _dog_!

She took away every bit of dignity I had; she took away every reminder if what I am.

And I have let her.

She brought out a playful side of me which I would have sworn to Primus, had died too long ago to remember. She brought me – _me_ – out; the true me, the 'me' I was always meant to be: a cybercat. Not an assassin, or the master's toy; a cybercat. She taught me that there are things far more enjoyable than the thrill of taking a life.

She caused me to repeatedly ignore every instinct I held, ignore every bit of programming which had told me to kill. She put my animosity at bay, containing me, soothing me, teaching me to see everything from a far different perspective. She taught me that I have a choice in what I do. She bought out the scared, confused kitten that I am to the surface, and I _trusted_ her enough to dare show it. I gave her enough trust to show her the most vulnerable side of me and she treated me like no other would have done. I'd let her in; allowed her to see my innocent side, the side that craves an affectionate touch and loving word She had stolen every bit of so called dignity I held as I joyfully purred at her touch. I rarely regain my ferocious side anymore; only when a threat is present, and I am able to find the murderous bloodlust dwelling within me once again.

But not out of hunger for the kill, but to _protect_ she whom I hold the ability to take the life of at any given time.

Pet. I had been given the name by many of the Autobots and a large majority of the human solders. They see me as a… a _pet_… a pet to _her_.

A pet, at least to my knowledge, loves their master. A pet is supoosed to love and fiercely protect their master. I truly am willing to protect Cassie with my very life if need be, keep her safe from all harm. I was born a Decepticon. Can my pride and self-worth accept this lifestyle that my care for Cassandra has brought me to?

No. And it never will. I am a fierce warrior; powerful and merciless and I will _not_ be brought down and demeaned so low as to purr while this human child scrapes her nails behind my 'ear'! I will not allow myself to tolerate such disrespect. My programming and pride don't understand this strange creature I have become, nor do they want to. This is against everything I am, yet my helm rests on the human girl's lap as she runs her hand over it and trails that same hand carefully along my back.

My Decepticon programming screams at me that I am a pathetic excuse for a cybercat, for a Decepticon, unworthy of wearing the name. Yet my newfound self, the one this girl has bought up to the surface, tells me to love her with everything I have and protect her for the rest of her oh-so-short days.

It's like the millennia-old civil war, all packed into me, tearing me between right and wrong; between pride and morality.

I refuse to tolerate being called a pet! I am a killing machine which knows no mercy!

With a deadly roar, I push myself up off the human's lap, growling in utter frustration. I glare at her, hating this weak thing she has turned me into. I glare at her, wanting nothing more than to tell her that I am _not_ to be treated as a human's pet. I want to tell her that she doesn't own me; I am a free cybercat who does as he pleases. _She_ is _mine…_ _not_ the other way around.

Mine.

My human; the child is _my_ human!

She looks me in the optic, smiling kindly and lovingly. Her smile makes my anger vanish more suddenly than it came.

"No," she tells me. "You are no pet. And you never will be and damn anyone who says you are. You are a free cybercat and no one will treat you as a pet anymore. You aren't my pet, you're my _friend_, and I will always be there for you." What is this strange magic this girl possesses? She reads my thoughts from a single glance in my optic. She seems to know me better than I know _myself_.

Without second thought, I curl up next to my human, placing my helm back on her lap and when her hand finds it, I purr in delight.

How can I hate that? How can I hate _her_?

I can't, and I know it.

Oh I care about her sleepless nights, and all her fears and demons; even more than I remember caring about anything. She was so confused and lost… more so now more than ever. There was a time when a single word from the Decepticon SIC would have been enough to pull her together; whether the word was in kindness, or a scolding, her eyes would light up at the very sight of him.

Now, though, the mere thought of the Seeker brings agonized tears to her blue eyes. Oh if she had only known. But she never will, not if she is to remian safe. It is to be mine and Wheely's secret. She will never find out, and she will never go back to them. Oh if she knew; she would go back at once. It was so 'Cassandra' to go back. She would forgive his every word, convince herself that he meant none of that, and go back. In fact, she would probably even apologize for calling that human boy a brother. Oh it was so 'her' to do that.

But we'd never let that happen. And besides, Starscream doesn't have time for her. Now that Megatron is back, he will be too busy trying to overthrow him. He's so predictable.

Either way, she is not going back to them. My human will remain here as long as I can help it. She stays here and safe, where the Decepticons won't find her and kill her. My human will be kept safe.

My human; _my_ human. It felt good to think that. My human and no one else's. And she will take care of me and love me and she will always be with me and protect me as much as her weak, pathetic, squishy body is able. She will always be my human. No one else will ever have her.

She was mine; my human.

I will also make her see that – as much as it hurts me to say it– that she can trust the Autobots. That's the one and only reason I let any of them touch me; because she has to see that if they didn't hurt me, they wouldn't hurt her.

I just hoped she can understand, so that I don't have to be touched by them for long, or often; I can't stand it.


	20. Chapter 19: contradicting viewpoints

Chapter 19: contradicting viewpoints.

**AN: ok, you guys, this is a **_**long**_** chapter. It took me so long to write it! But I'm finally satisfied with what I have. I'd like to thank all of you for leaving your lovely reviews – keep it up, please ;).**

**But I won't be keeping you any longer so please, I don't own Transformers; enjoy:**

"Oh, I have all my fingers…" I mutter slowly, taping the fork right next to my thumb and then in the space between it and my index finger. "… The knife goes chop, chop, chop…" I tap the space between my index and middle finger, and back next to my thumb, and so on. "And if I miss the spaces in between, my fingers will come off…" I mutter the song on, the musical tune completely absent. I mutter the words on, tapping the spaces between my wide-spread fingers, my hand lying flat on the cafeteria table.

I wince as I poke my pinky finger, hurting myself with the fork for the fifth time in the last half hour. I've been sitting here far longer than usual, the idea to practice the knife-song-game coming out of nowhere. I'd seen it on TV, and got this strange urge to try it myself. Good thing I was smart enough to not jump into it like I had a clue of what to do and used a knife like an idiot.

But this was going too slow, and I was getting frustrated at a ridiculous rate. I groan, pressing my lips into a tight line and give the damn fork a death-stare. "You stupid thing, why do you keep stabbing me?" I growl at it as if it would respond. I wasn't used to being bad at something because even though I was a Decepticon spy, I was also a rich teenage girl, who was the queen bee of the school, and I had a reputation to uphold. I had to be good at everything I did, and if I wasn't good at something, I just didn't do it, so no one would have to know that I was bad at it.

Let me clarify: I didn't do things because they were cool; things were cool _because_ I did them. Even so, if I did something not cool, like wear something from Wal-mart, or get dumped, or eat something with a high amount of calories, or- well, you get the point. So if I did something not cool, it instantly shoved me right back to the bottom of the social ladder of popularity, which was basically the most important thing in school.

Of course I knew that popularity meant little in real life – well, unless you were a movie star, or Arthur, in which case popularity meant power, and power meant… well… everything. Business was never really my field, even though I was to inherit my dad's company and business partners and so on, should something happen to him. Still, I found my popularity and glamour to be very important, and took the rules very seriously. So if I wasn't good at something, I didn't do it.

But I was too bored to think about that. I just wanted something to keep my mind occupied by something, and my time used up with maybe a dumb one, but a purpose nonetheless. And I get that it's pretty stupid, and the whole time, I could feel at least two pairs of eyes on my back, but I wasn't in the mood for the plain walls of my room. I needed a change in scenery as much as the base would allow. I really didn't know any of it other than the residential area way to the ladies shower room/bathroom, and the dining room.

Oh and then there was the most important walk of my whole day: the way to the cleaning hangar, and outside, where the stars were shining big and bright and many. And then there were the Autobots who were, by far, the most stressful part of my day. But it wasn't anything I couldn't take.

Or at least that what I keep telling myself.

I shake out of my thoughts, flinching back when I see the fork right in front of my face. I frown in confusion and it takes me a long moment to realize that I've long since stopped playing the knife game and, in my daze, subconsciously picked an object to stare at. For some reason, staring at something always made thinking easier for me. The reason to that is beyond me, though.

I feel a tap on my shoulder, and jump, letting out a small gasp, my hand flying to my heart. I turn to my company, about to give whoever they are a piece of my mind, but my mouth shuts right up when I turn to see Will. "A word, Abby," he says, making a 'come here' motion with his finger before going to leave the large room. I hurry to get up and follow, remembering later that I still have the fork in my hand. I toss it towards the table. It hits it with a loud clatter, bounces, and falls on the floor on the other side. I wave it off, hurrying to catch up with Will. I get a gut feeling that it's not going to be a very friendly discussion.

Pressing my lips into a tight line, and wracking my brain for anything I may have done wrong, I run to catch up with him, out of the dining room, and out into a pretty much empty hallway. There are two or three people there, but no one is in actual earshot range.

We stop and Will turns to me, arms crossed, an impatient look on his face. I internally flinch, thinking really hard over what I did to anger him. "Whatever it is, I'm sure there is a logical explanation," I say in a hurry, trying to sound convincing. "What did you hear I did, and I'll tell you why I did it. I'm sure it can't be that bad." I've never been too good at making excuses – mainly because there was never need to make them. And where there _was_ need for excuses, they were never taken, and I still got hell for whatever it was I did, even when I didn't do it. The excuses, or even explanations, were never so much as heard, let alone accepted.

"It's not what you _did_ as much as it was what you _didn't_ do," he says strictly. Nope, this is not place for bullshit excuses either – not to say I still won't try. Maybe, seeing as he's not a Decepticon, maybe he will be patient enough to listen. Then again, he _is_ a Major, and he wouldn't get the job if he took crappy excuses form 'nineteen' year-old girls. "Exactly how long have you been here?" he asks.

Is this a trick question? Better not say that out loud, though. "Just a little over two weeks," I say, "Why?"

"And how long do you _intend_ on staying here? Because that isn't going to be very long, if this keeps going on." I give him a questioning look, having no clue about what's going on. "What are you talking about?" I ask cautiously, not to anger him more.

"Don't play a dumb blonde, Abby, it doesn't suit you. You know exactly what I'm talking about. How many times have you so much as touched Optimus' alt. mode, eh; let alone even consider washing him?" I open my mouth to give some smart-ass response to that, like I do to the teachers in school, when they give me heck about listening to music in class, or not brining my homework in on time, or whatever else they feel like yelling at me for. But I close it shut quicker than I opened it when I realize what he's talking about.

I've washed all of them, at least once – one of those being particularly frightening *cough* Mr. Trigger-happy *cough*. But not him. In fact, like Will says, I didn't so much as think about it. For some reason, I feel like I just assumed that I didn't have to. Why did I think I got away with not washing Optimus' alt. mode, again?

"Abby, I'm still getting hell from Galloway about a stunt I pulled on him over Egypt. He's putting in everything he can to have me fired. On top of that, I have a very pissed off Egyptian government, bitching about how we destroyed the most famous wonder of the world, which just so happens to belong to them. We still have a lot of cleaning up to do in that godforsaken desert, and I have a ton of people up my ass about letting a civilian stay on a top secret base. So you'd be making my job a whole lot easier if I didn't have to hunt you down and tell you that I can't have you slacking off!" he nearly shouts in frustration.

I have a feeling that my slacking off is what's pushing him over the edge, because he's right: he _is_ keeping a civilian on a top secret base, which, of all of the above, is the only one he actually has power over. So if he wishes to, he can very easily get rid of this one small problem. And he knows that I know it, and simply _choose_ to not do my job, after he takes the stress of having me here. I gulp a little, realizing that my assumption of that I can get away with not doing something may cost him his job.

"Look… I mean…" I try to say, but the rest that comes out is an unintelligible babbling and gibberish, understandable to no one including myself. I give up on trying to talk my way out of trouble, instead taking the scolding, as I always do – though I never gave up on talking my way out of trouble from a human. Decepticons were one thing; they had quite the temper, but I always found ways to get out of after school detention and other things like that when it came to actual people.

It felt weird to not argue my point, let alone give up on it. I felt weak – a feeling I absolutely hated; it proved every Decepticon I ever met right: I was weak. I was _not_ weak. But I really couldn't argue here, because it was a valid point, and apparently I had to swallow my pride, and take it silently.

"I'm sorry," I say, looking down at my toes.

"Yeah, well sorry doesn't fix it, does it," Will says sternly. I bite my lip, feeling a little bad for him. Poor guy has so much going on; he needs a break. "I want him washed tonight; no excuses. He isn't washed, and you're out, you got that?" he almost snaps at me. I visibly flinch nodding rapidly, and staring down at my hand.

I hear him sigh and look up to see the look in his eyes soften. "Look, Abby, I have too much going on here to have you slacking off, you got that? I need the job to be done."

"Yeah, I get it, I'm sorry," I say. "It won't happen again," I promise.

"Not if you don't wanna stay here. Get it done." I nod in understanding, and before I know it, I'm left to stand in the hallway alone, staring at the floor, my body beginning to shake. Oh boy… this is not good; not good at all. Oh what am I going to do? I am so screwed.

I let out a little whimper, swallowing thickly. I… I have to wash the prime's alt. mode… Dear Primus above.

.oOo.

"You seem to be doing that a lot." I jump, a hand flying to my heart as I turn to glare at the one who startled me out of my thoughts. I take a deep breath, calming myself.

"Oh hey... you startled me," I tell Arcee. "You here to _not_ let Ravage stare you into petting him?" I tease, striking my tongue out between my teeth and grinning evilly. She rolls her optics, apparently choosing to ignore me.

"Do what, by the way?" I ask, frowning at her first comment.

"That," she says, pointing at me. "You twist you hair all the time, why do you do that?" I roll my eyes, waving her off a little.

"I do _not_ twist my hair," I state. Only when I look down at myself, wondering why she pointed at me, I see a strand of honey-blonde hair being spun around my finger. I instantly stop it; folding my arms over my chest.

"Oh…" I say, trailing off awkwardly and unsurely. Well, it _does_ explain why this particular part of m hair, which usually hangs over my shoulder always seems to be curlier – even though my hair is naturally almost completely straight; which reminds me that I _desperately_ need a curling iron.

"You do that an awful lot, particularly when you're nervous; why?" Arcee asks. I shrug absently, making a 'mm'-ing at the back of my throat.

"I don't know. I didn't even know I was doing it till you told me," I mumble to her. "I guess it's just a stupid habit."

"No, I mean, why are you doing that _now_? Why are you nervous?"

"Oh… that… right; it was brought to my immediate attention that I've been neglecting my work. I was just trying to think of an excuse that I can use to get out of doing it tonight as well," I tell her. I guess I'm not really lying, because my list of excuses really was sitting in the back of my head. What I was really thinking about was not something I shouldn't even be _thinking_ about thinking about.

I dismiss my self-forbidden train of thought, focusing on what I told Arcee I was pondering over: how do I get out of washing that flame painted semi-truck. The half hour that I've spent standing at the mouth of the hangar, I've come up with a total of zero food excuses. I guess you can say that my responsible half was hugely disagreeing with my logical half. It wasn't that I was a very responsible person, but when something important needed to be done, and someone counted on me to have it done, it was hard to let them down. No, I was definitely _not_ a dependable person, and I'd jump at the opportunity to not doing my work, and letting people down was something I never had the option of, and I was kind of really not used to it.

So as much as I didn't want to do it, this wasn't a battle that I could win, and my logical side first refused to see it, and then simply hated it.

"Yup… I got nothing," I mutter under my breath, grunting in frustration. This gets a shameless chuckle from the pink-armored femme. "Not funny," I tell her, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Of course it isn't. And it would be a lot more convincing had you not been laughing yourself," she fires back. I roll my eyes, but smile in amusement. Yeah, she's right, it would be a lot more convincing if I was able to maintain a straight face.

"What's boning you?" she asks, sounding genuinely worried. I sigh, giving my internal debate over whether to tell her or not to try, but it doesn't last long. I know that if I don't tell her, silence will fall too soon, and I will either have to go back to my room for another half hour, or just stand here, feeling awkward out of my mind. And she's not that bad for company anyway. Might as well keep up the conversation.

I sigh again, a more exasperated sound this time. "It has been brought to my attention that I am avoiding doing my job. I was just trying to find an excuse for it, and for continuing to not do it, by sadly, I'm fresh out of ideas. Looks like I'm stuck having to do it tonight."

She gives me a confused look. "Avoiding? How?"

"Well, see, my job is to wash the cars that have been used during the day, and you guys. And 'you guys' was referring to all of you. Ratchet never shows up, and Ironhide only came out here once. Your boss, on the other hand, stands here at least twice a week. And you _must've_ noticed that I'm taking a _long_ time to wash you guys, till I'm practically sleeping on my feet. So yeah, I'm neglecting my job big time." I suddenly turn to her, raising a finger. "You don't happen to know a way out of having to wash his alt. mode, do you?" I ask sheepishly, giving her an innocent, 'Ravage' look – ok, it's actually the look that Puss gave Shrek, but Ravage does it better. Arcee doesn't even try to not laugh at that, shaking her helm, no. I sigh in defeat, seeing that my last ditch effort was without result.

"Argh, you're right; I have to do it, don't I?"

"Afraid so. Abby, if it'll make it any easier, Optimus knows how you feel about us; he won't do anything that will startle you as it is, but if you explain to him exactly why you're scared, it'll allow him to help you. I'm sorry, does that make any sense? Tell him why you're so scared-"

"- uncomfortable," I correct her. I don't like the word 'scared' one bit.

"Right, uncomfortable. If he knows what's wrong, he'll be able to help you; we all can. But you have to tell us; you have to help us help you feel safe." I nod, understanding what she's getting at. What I _don't_ understand is why any of them would bother helping us a useless squishy like me. _They_ never cared if I was comfortable doing something, and I never mentioned it when and _if_ I was. Feeling worried or unsafe while doing my job was never something that I questioned; it was a given and no one ever gave it any thought, even me. I just _did it_.

So why would the _Autobots_ want to help me? What did they care if I felt safe? Heck, what did _I_ care?

We just _did_. That's what bothered me so much. There was always a reason to everything anyone did. Things didn't get done just because, and I didn't know the reason behind this. Looks like it's yet another thing to keep my mind occupied with while I try to find a comfortable position in bed when I attempt to fall asleep. But I wasn't ready to drop the subject yet.

"So what you're saying is that I should, as my kindergarten teacher put it, 'talk my problems out'?" I ask.

"I guess you can say that. And your… _kindergarten_ teacher wasn't exactly wrong. This… _kindergarten_, by the way, according to the internet, that's where you keep your Sparklings – your young – when you can't take care of them?" I knew what Sparklings were very well, but made it look like I just learned a new word, and nodded.

"Yup, that's where the kids are. And it's loud, and confusing, and everyone is fighting over silly things, and learn to sing the alphabet," I say, explaining 'kindergarten' in better, more familiar words than Wikipedia.

"Yes that sounds about right," she says, clearly thinking of the Cybertronian equivalent. "Well, your caretaker wasn't exactly wrong – can't say she was right, either, though. I know how hard it can get, to actually do anything with your problems, other then shut them up within yourself and try to deal with them alone," Arcee tells me, getting a distant, thoughtful look in her eyes. For a long moment, I wonder why she's telling me any of this, and am about to snap back that I _didn't_ ask her what she was thinking about my teacher. Only I realize that maybe it was actually good advice, and that Arcee was either trying to keep the conversation going, or was just trying to be nice, and give me something familiar to relate to. Can't say she did a bad job, so I chose not to say anything, and keep all the snarky remarks – that she certainly didn't deserve – to myself. No one needs to hear that.

Instead, I say "yeah, well, clearly my teacher didn't know as much as she thought. She clearly didn't consider that no one ever does the right things because the right things are always the hardest, and 'being strong' and 'facing your fears'," I say, air-quoting the words, "are a hell of a lot easier said than done." This causes Arcee to let out a knowing chuckle, like it struck a chord; like she knew about 'the right thing' all too well. Oh I knew about that all too well, too.

"Clearly," she agrees, nodding.

"And yet, you're telling me to do the same," I tell her, because technically, she was.

"No, Abby, I'm telling you what you _could_ do; whether to do it or not is all up to you, I'm just giving you the option. You can take it, or you can not; it's not my business anyway. But your stay here will be a lot more enjoyable if you don't have to look over your shoulder in mistrust of all of us all night."

Good point. Besides, maybe talking to Optimus isn't all bad; I have questions: about the war, about the Autobots, and about a lot of other things, and I feel like he's the one from whom I need to hear those things. It then gets to me that after all this time, I _need_ to talk to him; I really don't have another option. So I guess this was my wakeup call, and I can't really prolong the inevitable anymore.

"You're right," I say with a new prospective on this. I look up at her, and she gives me a look of "of course I'm right." I chose to not say anything to that and continue. "I _am_ going to get over myself. I'm being too childish with this."

"No, Abby, why do you always do that? You're missing my point; I'm not telling you any of this because I think you're being childish about any of it. We all understand why you would have this reaction toward us; it's perfectly acceptable. What I'm saying is that you can make it easier on yourself and that by doing so, you can help _us_ make it easier on you. Why does it always come down to you doing something because you think that not doing it makes you weak? Sam told us quite a fair bit about you and you are in no way weak; why do you keep seeing yourself as such?" she asks, sounding seriously annoyed with me. I do snap at this, my patience going only so far.

"Maybe it's because I _am_ weak; I can't even wash a car properly without, _like you said_, looking over my shoulder every three minutes. How does that _not_ make me weak?"

"Abby, being scared isn't a weakness, it's… ok, no, let's try it another way: fear is your body's natural signal to you that you are in danger, and if you don't do something about it, things won't end well. That's not a weakness; it's a distress call, from you, to yourself. Can we work with _that_?" Yes, I can, because it's true; she does have a point. If people didn't get scared, they'd be all killed. Fear is a natural instinct, telling you that you are in danger, and when you're afraid, your fight or flight instincts kick in, and you can either try to do something, or you can get away.

Yes, 'oh I'm so screwed' sounds a lot better than 'oh I'm so scared'.

"Alright, yes, that works out. So I'm telling myself that being around you guys is dangerous, but what you're telling me, is that I need to get to know whatever is causing me distress, so that I know that it isn't really as dangerous as I thought, right?" I ask, and I know exactly how stupid it sounds, but I don't want to say that I need to spend more time with what's making me scared, because then it won't scare me as much.

With a loud sigh of irritation, Arcee gives a defeated nod. "Yes, I guess you can say that that's what I'm telling you. And why are you so scared of saying that you're scared."

"Because I'm not; I just don't exactly feel safe and sound," I tell her. I'm not scared of being scared; being scared is a weakness, that's what Starscream always said. He told me to never be scared because when you're scared of something, it can be used against you. I might be a coward, but I don't get scared of talking to someone. Feeling unsafe and being scared are two different things.

.oOo.

I never even knew that I could actually stall for this long. I'm usually a master at stalling when it comes to class discussions and getting into trouble with the principal and a whole lot of other things like that, but I'd never have thought I can actually keep myself this busy in order to not do something, and by the time I'm done, I'm positively exhausted. The night was quiet, very quiet. I barely spoke, concentrating on cleaning, polishing, and waxing, every car I can find that hasn't been cleaned yet – that being real cars, and Autobots. I found the hangar to be particularly messy tonight, so I chose to clean it before I even started out the night with the first car – actual car.

Pit, tonight was one big training session for me. Not only did I go through a good dozen cars, and the entire hanger, which was a good quarter size of my mansion of a house, and I pulled my crap together and got under the Autobot cars to do the job that I'd had Wheely doing for the little over two weeks which I'd spent here. It was one hell of a stressful experience, let me tell you; not fun at all. That's why it took me an entire hour to realize that by doing so, I officially relieved Wheely of the job, and took on the responsibility. I did it once, and there was no more chickening out with this. It was a terrible idea, but finally, I felt like I worked up enough nerve to send everyone on their way, calling out a dreaded name.

"Optimus Prime, I'll have to ask you to stay." It's actually hard to believe how much that one phrase made me anxious. I have to remind myself that in an area quite so public, he really can't do anything to me without drawing suspicion, and as long as I don't provoke him, I will be fine. I'm sure he wouldn't do anything for no reason – the legendary Optimus Prime never does anything without having a valid reason.

I suddenly find the state of my nails very interesting, as I refill the bucket with water. The state of my un-curled hair, which is in desperate need of a salon trip becomes my top priority as I clean the old supplies, and get new ones from the hangar. And as I get the supplies, my outfit, which is a largely altered uniform, becomes of great concern. I try to find anything else to focus on, like how beautiful the night sky is, I pinpoint a few satellites – little star-looking things, moving slowly across the simmering canopy – and how hot it is tonight, and finally, find nothing else to focus on but the task at hand.

Reluctantly, I come to a stop in from of the infamous semi, setting the cleaning equipment down on the ground next to me. I cast Ravage, who is curled up in the hangar, being spoiled by the triplets, a desperate glance, which he catches, and returns with a half-encouraging, half-annoyed look. He's right, I've dragged this out for _far_ too long, time to pick up all my guts and get it done and over with.

"Ok, first things first, please don't move, or make a sound that a truck isn't supposed to make, Sir," I plead, my face reflecting my tone. Not sound comes from the truck and I take that as an agreement. With a huff, I start doing what I should have done a long time ago.

I go through the usual procedure, making sure I do a far better job than usual. I make sure every inch is squeaky clean before moving on to the next. By the time that I would have finished one of the others, I've only done a fraction of the truck, with a good little under two thirds to go. I've never washed a car this size… like ever. It already feels like it will take an eternity. It hasn't been long at all, given his size, but my hair, though pulled back into a bun, is in a horrendous state, my last good nail is broken, and the utter silence is killing me.

So I decide that this is as good a place as any to start talking. "Um…" I start, controlling my voice, "I owe you an apology, Sir. I'm… I'm sorry; my behavior was uncalled for and very disrespectful, Sir. I really am sorry."

"Abby, you have nothing to apologize for; your reaction was only natural. And please, you don't need to call me 'Sir'."

"I beg to differ, Sir," I say, "My reaction was not natural so much as it was rude. I had no right to shout at you either time; I should have handled myself better than that, and I had no right to compare you to..." I put on a thinking face, pretending to try to remember the name of the faction, "… them. I'm sorry, Sir."

"Abby, no one blames you for not seeing the difference, and making such a small mistake; anyone would have."

"Did Sam?" I insist, knowing full well to never blame them to their face. You can blame them in your head, but never outright tell them that something is their fault. And even if you know that something is their fault, you still take the blame. Optimus is silent for a while, and I know that the answer is no, Sam didn't freak out, or act the way I did.

"I take it Major Lennox spoke about this with you?" Optimus asks, referring to that I'm washing him right now, and I give a small nod.

"Yes, Sir, he has." He doesn't mention the fact that I called him 'Sir' again, and for that, I'm grateful. I don't want to have to explain it to him. I'm sure I can come up with an excuse, but right now, I'm not sure how good that lie will come out to be. I doubt it will be very convincing, though, since I'm not in a good shape to spin stories right now, so I stick to the basics.

"I asked him not to do that when we talked," he tells me and I want to roll my eyes.

"He did the right thing, Sir; I was neglecting my work. I shouldn't have done that."

"Abby, I understand why you wouldn't feel safe, doing this; and you don't have to." That sounded very different, coming from the Major.

"No, Sir, I do; I'm not usually like this. I'm… not myself, as of late," I say, pausing for a moment to find the right words. I found it a little difficult, which was strange, seeing as words always came so easy to me; they were always my element, and I wielded them like… like a ninja wielding those little star things – because that's the only comparison I can come up with off the top of my head.

"It's quite alright; you've been through a lot, I'm sure. You shouldn't rush yourself," he says in that voice of his. That voice that is so deep and comforting and makes you want to trust him. That voice that's full of kindness that I would never expect to hear from someone like him. That voice that makes it hard to not believe what he says. I can see how he has us humans all played. For some stupid reason, I answer to that; and in the worst of ways, on top of that.

"If I don't push myself, Sir, I'll be slacking off even more, and I'm… I guess I've never been too good at slacking off and doing nothing. I push my limits as far as they go. I guess it's my way of keeping busy and keeping my mind occupied with pressing matters. I don't like thinking about useless things, it seems too…" what's the word I need here? "It seems… pointless, for the lack of a better term, Sir."

I felt like I couldn't shut up. I kept talking when I should have stopped ages ago. But the words just kept coming. I mentally slap myself, telling myself to shut up close to a million times a minute, because Optimus really couldn't care less about why I push myself. "As much as lying in bed, doing nothing all day would be very nice, I can't stand it; can't stand the silence and the doing nothingness and the stillness."

_Shut up, shut up, shut up!_ Stop talking, you stupid girl! You'll only make it worse!

"Still, it isn't necessary for you to do what makes you feel unsafe."

"It is necessary for me to do my job, Sir. And if my job makes me feel 'unsafe', then so be it. It doesn't change the fact that it needs to be done, Sir, don't you think?" Oh that was the last thing I should have said!

"Actually I do agree with that, but that doesn't mean that you have to force yourself." Only it does, because if you don't push yourself to do what you don't want to do, then nothing gets done, and then someone has to answer for that. So I would much rather break all my nails washing Optimus Prime, than have to be kicked off the base, and be easy prey to everyone who holds a grudge against me and believe me, the lineup is quite long.

Oh I just wish he would just drop the subject and let it go. I push myself because I don't get anything done and because I don't like doing nothing, period. Now can we _please_ change the subject? Oh how I wish I can say that and get it over with.

Apparently Optimus can read people far better than I would have thought because even though I don't show anything, he still changes the subject, to which I am grateful. "I hope your adjustment is going well," he says, sounding oh-so-genuine; so genuine that I can't help but answer instantly, wasting not a moment to form my reply.

"It's alright. I'm a little… ok, quite a bit nervous," I admit, "but it's alright. Everything takes time to adjust to. I'm sure I'll be fine in no time. Thank you, Sir." How did that just happen? That's a little scary. But he made it sound so true, and so kind that I couldn't _not_ answer that way. That's not good at all.

"I'm glad to hear that. How are you feeling here?"

"Fine, Sir. It was hard at first, but I'm growing used to this company quicker than I would have thought. If… you don't mind my asking… Sam told me that that 'terrorist attack' – the first one, the one in Mission City – it was a battle, am I right? A battle between you and the… Decepticons?" I ask, feeling that if I don't start asking my questions now, I never will. "You were fighting over who will get the Allspark, and it was lost. Sam told me a little of what happened there. From what I gather, Sir, you lost it; it had to be destroyed. Am I right?"

"Yes; we had to destroy it. We were outnumbering the Decepticons, but the battle was taking place in a populated region. Too many innocent lives were caught up in it as it was, and we couldn't risk more. If we were to win, it had to be destroyed."

"I don't mean to pry but h-what… what happened?" I ask. I've never really heard this story in full. Starscream had a different angle on the whole thing, and what little he did tell me was mainly about the Roof Scene, as I call it; when Sam was confronted by Megatron. But Optimus was in the battle the whole time, and had a different view of the whole thing.

"No, it's quite alright. Sam merged the Allspark with Megatron's Spark, which destroyed them both. It was the only way to end the battle."

"But Megatron came back… how did that happen?" I knew the answer, but Abby didn't, and since I'm Abby, this is where I go first.

"A shard of the Allspark was recovered and saved after the fight. It was placed under surveillance on the main NEST base. But the Decepticons found it, and used it to start Megatron's Spark again."

"So if I'm right, it was like a defibrillator or something; it kick-started him like when a car battery dies, you use another car battery to recharge it?" That was the worst analogy I could possibly come up with. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"To put it in simple terms, yes, it was similar to that. The Allspark is a source of power and life on our planet. It holds great power; it resurrected him."

"I see… Hold on… Sir, if it's a source of life for your planet, and it was destroyed…"

"Yes; our planet was torn apart and destroyed by the war, and the Allspark was the only thing powerful enough to save it."

"And when the Allspark was lost…"

"… so was our planet," Optimus finishes for me what I already knew. But hearing him say it out loud, so filled with sorrow and emptiness… it brought tears to my eyes – for both factions. Oh Cybertron must have been glorious. Starscream mentioned it once or twice, and he said it was magnificent. And now it was lost. This brought me to my next question.

"Sir… what about… giving the Decepticons the Allspark? From what I hear, you were losing the battle if you had to turn to destroying the Allspark. Would the Decepticons not have saved your world?"

"Abby, the Decepticons thrive on chaos, giving the Allspark to them would have resulted in tyranny. They might have saved our planet, but first they would have destroyed yours. Anyone who wouldn't become loyal to them would be killed, and our planet, though saved, would then thrive on murder and violence."

"But those who wanted to live would turn to the Decepticons. I don't know anything about military and your kind, but I'm sure you have survival instincts. Wouldn't most turn to the Decepticons? Your race would survive. It would keep going, am I right? Decepticons may have ruled, but at least those who are left would live, Sir. Wouldn't that be better than to be stuck on a strange world, and have to pretend to be cars if you want to see the world outside a base?" I ask, and then my eyes widen in horror when I hear what I just said. "I-I mean no disrespect, Sir, I swear. It was not my place to say… I'm sorry, Sir," I hurry to add, my mind racing a million mile per hour at how disrespectful and horrible a thing that was to say. Oh holy Primus I'm an idiot!

"Abby, you mustn't apologize for anything; you are right." He tells me, and when he speaks, his voice is the kindest I could imagine. I didn't even think such gentleness was possible. There was no anger, and no annoyance; only understanding. Why was it that way? Why didn't that anger him?

"Abby, our planet may be gone, but yours is still young. It still has only started to discover the universe around it; it has much to see and learn. We stay here not because we cannot go back, but because you are too young to be left at the mercy of the Decepticons remaining on Earth, and Egypt proved that. You have too much to see and to learn for us to leave you. We cannot fight for our planet, but we _can_ fight for yours, and as long as we can, we will."

"But Sir, why would you? We did nothing to deserve your protection, so why would you risk _your_ lives to save _us_?"

"All sentient beings deserve to be protected. Abby, you don't have to do anything for us; you deserve to be saved." I just barely manage to keep the tears from my eyes as his words echo over and over again in my head. _You deserve to be saved_. I wasn't saved. Arthur did nothing to even _try_ to save me. It was all a lie and he knew it, and he did nothing to save me. If everyone deserves to be saved, why wasn't I?

"Why?" I manage to get out, because that one little word is all I trust myself to say without letting on that I'm trying hard to not cry.

"Because you all have the right to live; to live _free_. And as long as you allow us to do so, we will protect that right."

"Why?" I echo, still not understanding. "Why would you offer us such kindness when we can give you little to nothing in return, Sir? You can single handedly end our race; why share the planet if you can just take it? Why… why won't you, Sir? What is it to you to help us?" I couldn't shut up. I couldn't make the stupid, pointless, punishable by death words stop coming. Just hearing the understanding in his voice made it so nearly impossible to not believe that they are true, the kindness behind them impossible; unreal.

"Abby, if you were thousands or even millions of years old, and you were the last of your race, with your world destroyed; tell me, would you not show kindness to children who have only just begun to walk?"

What if you were really old, and really kind and alone, with your whole race dead; what could you do, but give? If you were that old, and that kind, and the very last of your kind, could you really just stand there, and watch children crying? A half hour ago, I might have said no; I might have said I'd move along, trying to survive the vast universe around me, not stopping to pick up the weak. But now, after what Optimus said, about everyone deserving to be protected and saved… even the weak can be made strong, and children are the most precious ones of us all. They hold more power in them then all of us together, and they are _so very innocent_.

So if you were thousands of years old, and you were the last of your race, with your world destroyed… "Yes," I say, for the first time tonight saying the utmost, undeniable truth. "Yes, I would." I would show kindness to others, because kindness is all I have left, and I _need_ to give it to someone, because how can you _not_ show them that?

"Yes…" I echo, "… I would." Because being alone is the worst of feelings.

**AN: I was writing the ending and I was getting teary. It was such a touching scene. Oh poor Cassie is trying to solve a Rubics Cube with her brain right now, with how confusing everything is for her.**

**I really hope you liked the chapter, and if you did, than please tell me because I like complements – hehehe. Also, I made a huge reference at the end of this chapter, and the first person who can guess what it was, and exactly where it came from get a shout out in the beginning of the next chapter!**

**As for now, I bid thee farewell and good night (or day) and I I'll see you all next time. Bye! *waves*.**


	21. Chapter 20: safe and sound

**AN: alright my lovelies, here is another chapter for you, but guys, you sadden me. Not a single review for chapter nineteen? It was the longest chapter I ever written and by far one of my favorites, and no one said anything. It makes me sad *sniff***

**But forget about that. I have yet another chapter for you, and this one is just as good – also one of my favorites. I have to admit, I'm really proud of Cassie/Abby in this one; she's making some progress, and don't worry: the progress will be made even better and more exciting very soon! I promise you that she's getting over her depressed stage. In fact, next chapter she's laughing! Yay; she'll be fun again!**

**No more brooding for you, missy!**

****Listen to Beautiful Lie by 30 Seconds to Mars when you get to the "Cassandra… Abby… Cassandra… Abby…" part. It's a wonderful song that inspired that whole chunk of the chapter, and it totally describes the Cassie/Abby situation.**

**Anyhow, I don't own Transformers; enjoy:**

We're silent for a long moment, my answer spinning in my head like a Merry-Go-Around, repeating over and over again, reminding me of how wrong it sounded coming from me. I couldn't stand by and do nothing as someone was hurting.

What in the Pit?! No, that's not me! No, I _would_ stand by and watch someone get hurt. Pit, I would even enjoy it! I would watch others lose what they love and care about, and I would take even more away. That's who I am, and that's what I do. I don't help people, I destroy them. I hurt people; I make them feel like nothing at all, because their lives, like mine, mean nothing at all, because _that's_ who I am and it's not about to change.

But now, hearing it come from Optimus, so true and sincere, so impossible to not believe, no matter how much I try to convince myself that it's a lie… I can't say all that, and still believe it. I can't believe any of what I think, because… because I told the truth. I told the outright, undeniable truth, for what felt like the first time in my life. There wasn't more to it or behind it and neither was there more I wanted to say. It wasn't just truth; I was being _honest_.

"Thank you, Abby," I hear Optimus say in the back of my head. His voice brings me back to the real word and before me, I see a cleaned, polished, and glowing in the fading moonlight and coming sun, truck, the flames on it vivid in the silver light of the waning moon. It takes me longer than it should to realize that _Optimus is clean_. And it takes me even longer to realize that _I was the one who washed him_.

I was done. _I was done_. He was cleaned, and _I did it_. It was morning.

I daze out, wracking my brain for _how_ I could have possibly done that, since what seemed only moments ago, I still had two thirds to go. I look over my arms, seeing my fingers wrinkled from the water and filthy as ever.

I hear a distant shifting noise, but even deep in my mind, far from full recognition, I still know that noise better than I know anything else in the whole wide world. It's the sound of transformation. I freeze up, my instincts screaming for me to bolt as far and as fast as I can, but my feet stay glued to the ground; like when a car is speeding at you and you know you need to move, but your feet won't budge. I guess now I know how it feels to be run over by a _real_ car and why no one ever moves out of the way, unlike me, who was trained to do just that. It's not because they are too stupid and don't know they should; it's because they _can't_.

I feel his massive figure close behind me, and close my eyes shut, knowing that since I can't move, I have no chance. But all I get is silence, long, torturous, unbearable silence that's killing me from the inside.

"Abby." Shaking like a leaf in the wind, I turn around, looking up at the infamous Optimus Prime, kneeling down in front of me, watching me closely. But his optics are kind and careful, like he's afraid to scare me more, because he knows how scared I am already. I stare up at him, waiting for something – _anything_ – to happen, but for a long time, nothing does. He just kneels there, waiting for something. Finally, after an eternity of waiting, my shaking dies down and fades away, his long presence taking effect.

I guess that's what he was waiting for: for me to get used to him being there; because he only moves when he somehow knows that I'm mentally ready for him to. He shifts a little, slowly – oh-so-slowly and _oh-so-carefully_ – moves his hand, palm up, to me. He holds it there, stretched out in a silent offer that I understand, but at the same time, I don't. My mind races faster and faster as the trustable look in his eyes gets the best of me. This is terrible, so very terrible. I shouldn't let this liar get to me like this. But he looks and sounds so honest, so truthful. And deep inside, I _want_ to believe him; I want it more than anything else. I _need_ to believe someone, anyone, as long as I know that I _can_ believe them, and for some reason, I want that someone to be him, of all beings in the universe. And I already know the why.

Because as far as fact goes, tonight he didn't tell me a single lie; it was all true. The war, the destruction of the Allspark; everything. But then there was the freedom part, which I did my best to not linger over, because it was too close to home for comfort. But the way he said it, I couldn't keep it off my mind for a second. It was there still, in the back of my mind, whispering itself in my ear, making me hear it over and over again.

So in conclusion, I didn't know why I did it, and I didn't know what drove me to let him do this to me, get to me like that. I just did, and as much as it scared me, as much as every cell in my body screamed for me to run, to get away; as much as the fear set me on fire, I reach out a tiny, shaking hand to him, hovering it over one of his fingers for what felt like forever, before ghosting it across the metal.

It felt real.

It felt warm and true.

It felt _safe_.

"Your work was remarkable, Abby. Thank you."

And then I'm left standing in the middle of the cleaning area, the sun finding its way to my face, making the tears rolling done my cheeks sparkle in the soft light.

.oOo.

_Thank you_.

Once I get to my room, I waste no time to rush to the bathroom, and barf my guts out in the toilet, my body shaking so much that I'm afraid I might be having a seizure.

I just touched the Prime's hand. I just let myself touch the Primes hand.

I just spoke to him, and got so caught up in the conversation that I didn't even realize that I was done washing him. For a moment, a single, crazy, unreal moment, I let myself forget that I was washing him, and talking to him, and that it was _him_. I just forgot about that _I was washing his alt. mode_. And as I did that, he, of all creatures in the universe, made me speak the truth. And it was the biggest truth I have ever spoken. It was so small and innocent and pointless, and yet it meant the universe to me, because it was so unlike me, and yet, it was so right. I just told the absolute, one hundred percent truth. There is not greater truth than what I had said, and _I_, of all people, said it! I actually said that!

_Yes… I would_

Three innocent, meaningless words, yet I had never said something more honest and real in all my life. _Yes… I would_. There is no greater truth then that.

I just touched Optimus Prime's hand.

Optimus Prime thanked me.

A wail rocks through me, sending my crumbling to the floor, my head resting against the toilet seat, tears rolling down my face. I was thanked.

I was _thanked_.

_Optimus Prime thanked me_.

He thanked me. He said thank you. Why did he say that? Why did he say thank you.

I lift my head off the seat, and vomit some more, making those horrible noises of an animal being stabbed with a ball-point pen. Once I have nothing else – not even stomach acid – to throw up, and once my throat hurts enough to drive me away from the bathroom, I go to my bed and curl up into a tight ball.

Ravage finds me, and climbs onto the small bed with me, the bed creaking in protest to his weight. He curls up behind me, keeping me company as I fall asleep, tears burning my face.

_Thank you… thank you… thank you_…

.oOo.

I don't see him the next day.

Or the day after that.

Or even the day after that.

I don't talk to anyone during those days, either. I keep utterly, sickeningly silent, killing myself with that. But I don't utter a word. I have full conversations with others in my head, and think of useless things, try to solve crosswords without using a pencil and a whole bunch of other pointless things like practice the knife game, but never make a sound.

Or at least during my waking hours. Sleep is a different story. Nightmares haunted my every sleeping moment, and when I woke, I find myself in tears for reasons I couldn't ever name. The nightmares are usually about… well, they're actually very confusing, yet very straight forward. It's always me in a dark room. It's quiet, and dark, and cold. I find a wall and follow it, trying to find a door, but there is never one. There is never anything at all; the wall goes on forever, and the farther I go the darker and colder and quieter it gets. Basically, I'm alone there, and there is no way out of there. But in the end of every dream, just before it ends – in fact, that's what wakes me up – is a voice. Distant and lost, but I know that voice. I can count on one hand the amount of times I heard it, but I would know it anywhere.

It's soft, and sympathetic, and quiet, and warm. And it always says something I can never make out, but it always brings warmth with it; it makes the darkness more bearable, and the silence less frightening. It makes the loneliness go away. It has a kind air to it.

It makes me feel safe.

That's why I wake up in tears: not because I wasn't used to the feeling, but because it was there. I guess a part of me didn't want to feel safe – quite a large part, actually. The way I saw it, a large part of me needed the danger and distrust. The feeling of safety was frightening, and alien, and it didn't belong in my life.

I was always, in a way, safe; with that golden law of safety hanging over me. But it was different. It was a guarantee based on my age, and I knew full well that once the age factor was gone, that would drastically change; I knew that I would die, and I was used to it. And this feeling, this… _safety_… it scared me.

It scared me more than anything, and I couldn't figure out why.

That voice was the most comforting, and the most terrifying thing I can think of all at once, to ever exist. It's wrong and twisted, and it shouldn't exist – not in real life, and most certainly not in my dream. And the worst part is that it was so real and genuine. There was no other side of the coin; there was no hidden plan. The voice was just there, and its only purpose was to tell me that it was ok, and that I was safe. It wasn't trying to scare me; it was trying to help me.

And today it was keeping me up all day, tossing, and turning. After an eternity, I settled for just lying on my back, and imaging that the ceiling was a starry night sky. And unsurprisingly, my dreams weren't the only thing keeping me up.

Abby… Cassandra… Abby… Cassandra… Who was I?

Cassandra would never help another; she would never do something for someone and not ask for a favor in return. But Abby would. Abby would lend a helping hand and not ask for anything in return.

Cassandra was a survivor who knew her way around any situation. Abby was the world's worst liar, she could barely throw a punch, and she cried over the silliest things.

Cassandra was strong and smart. Abby was a teenage girl whose world was limited to shopping and gossip and M&M candy.

Cassandra would never lend assistance if it would endanger her in any way or if it she wasn't offered something in return. Abby would stop and help someone, even if it meant she would end up in a very bad place.

Cassandra was better than Abby at everything she did; she had more, and she had a purpose in life. Abby was just a kid who wanted to get out of school as fast as possible so she can go on a shopping trip with her friends.

Cassandra had power and influence over people. Abby knew how to irritate them out of their mind and be a pain in the neck.

Cassandra was better in everything, but Abby had something on her.

Abby had something I couldn't find in Cassandra no matter how many hours I spend trying. Abby had the one thing that turned all of Cassandra's advantages into jokes and put them to shame. She wasn't a liar, she wasn't a manipulative bitch, she wasn't a mean girl, she didn't love all the wrong people, and she didn't pretend to be more than she was. She helped, and stuck around even when she should have left, she listened to people's problems and didn't roll her eyes, she could barely do a half-decent cartwheel and she loved M&M's.

Abby was a _human being_.

She didn't have very much, but she sure as hell had people to share that with, where as Cassandra had everything, and everyone she ever shared it with took it all and left, because she made the biggest mistake of her life. Had Abby made a mistake that big, people world have stuck by her.

All because she's a human being. She's terrible at so many things, and has so many flaws. She didn't do her homework, and was afraid of needles, talked too much when she was excited. She didn't know when to shut up and couldn't take a hint. And most importantly, she knows how to accept all of that. Cassandra has to watch herself to make sure that she doesn't twist her hair because it's a dumb habit and she can't bring herself to accept that she has that habit.

Abby is terrible, stupid, ignorant and blind to the obvious, but with all her imperfections and flaws, she's perfect.

Abby. Is. Perfect.

And that's who Optimus thanked a few nights ago. He thanked the girl who would kill right about now, for a bar of chocolate. He didn't thank me, he thanked her.

He. Thanked. Abby.

I hate Abby. I despise her with everything I have.

I. Hate. Her.

She has more than me, always had. And now she has someone's approval. I admit it: I'm jealous of her. I am _so_ jealous of her. I am never jealous of anyone. I always have more than others, and everything I have is better than what others could even _hope_ to have. And now an imaginary person has something that I don't. I'm _jealous_. This is new. This is a very new feeling.

Jealousy. It feels weird.

I don't like how it feels one bit. I hate how being jealous feels. I can't go around feeling jealous of a person that doesn't even exist. I can't be jealous anymore. I have to change that.

.oOo.

I let out a wild, embarrassingly loud yawn, covering my mouth with both hands all too late, and feel my face redden as several of the solders working the night shift – who dropped by the hangar tonight – turn to look at me. I let my hair loose, letting it drop over my face like a curtain as I turn to face outside, waiting for Ravage. Tonight he decided he needed to stretch his legs, and nagged the triplets for a while before they got the message. The four of them have been doing laps around the entire base for the last half hour. About fifteen minutes ago, the twins and Sideswipe decided to join them; they've all been racing each other since then. And since I can't leave Ravage unattended, thanks to the rules, I have to stick around until he decides that he had enough.

Granted, with all the time he's spent locked up in the six by six-ish foot bathroom, I doubt he'll stop running any time soon. He needs the run a thousand times more than I do. Pit, I'd be out there doing laps with them if I didn't feel like a zombie right now.

"Hello." I wouldn't have jumped had I not been in this state. But since I can barely keep my eyes open, I do, and even let out a short scream.

"I see you're not with your sisters anymore. Got tired fast?" I tease. Had this been with the Decepticons, they'd never let her live it down. I've seen them race until the sound of exploding tires brought them to a stop; if one quit, they never heard the end of it.

"Actually no; I'm just taking a little break. I wanted to know how you are doing," Arcee tells me. I give her a small, acknowledging smile, nodding slowly.

"I'm fine," I say, and just as I get the last sound out, I yawn. I laugh at myself a little for that, covering my mouth. "Sorry; just a-a-aaa biiiiitth hiyeeegg," I get out through yet another yawn. "Sorry. I said I'm a bit tired," I correct myself, getting a shameless laugh from the femme.

"Yes, I noticed that you've been awfully tired as of late. You're overworking yourself, and if memory serves right, you keep busy to keep yourself distracted from something. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, I'm good, really; nothing to worry about."

"What happened?" she asks. Well, clearly that lie is overused not just on Earth, but on Cybertron as well.

"Well…" I say, thinking for a little about whether to tell her or not. Oh hell with it. "I had a small chat with Optimus, as you suggested," I say, not really lying.

"And…?"

"And he said some things that got me thinking about some other things. I guess I got wrapped up in thought – about things I didn't want to think about."

"Like what?" she presses on. I huff, but tell her.

"Well, like for example, why he chose to stay here. He just made everything more complicated. It was a lot easier to hate him and not trust him – basically, it was a lot simpler to see him as the bad guy. But now, I can't be as sure. I mean, he said that we all have that whole freedom-right thing, but it's just very confusing. Like, why would a race like yours want to help us? Apparently, to you, we're all little children. So that's what he said. That he chose to help us because he really didn't have any others that he needed to protect, and it was just a simple act of kindness."

"So go tell him that. You can be making it a little less obvious that it's confusing you to no end," she says, not sarcastically, of course. I didn't allow myself to let on that I was confused. It was something only between me and myself. "Look, I don't know why it's so hard for you to accept that he just wanted to help you without some extra agenda, but I also don't know where you grew up or what your parents might have taught you. Maybe to you it makes sense. But see, the thing is: it doesn't make sense to _us_. We don't make sense to you, and you don't make sense to us. Tell him that," she tells me.

"No," I say firmly, crossing my arms over my chest. "I'm _not_ going to tell him that. He might say something that will just confuse me more and give me a headache again. And besides, the agreement was to talk to him once. I talked to him once, so now I don't have to talk to him anymore." And I know exactly how childish that sounded; that's why when Arcee burst out laughing, like I just told her the joke of the century. I let her laugh it out.

She manages to compose herself after some time, clearing her throat. "No I- We di- we didn't have some sort of _agreement_-" she manages to get out, still laughing in between words. "I was- I wasn't telling you ta- to do this because it was some sort of obligation or deal! Oh Abby, please tell me that that was just your sense of humor. Because if it wasn't, then I really don't know what to say to you. What I meant was that if you talk it out with him, you might understand us better. I wasn't telling you to do that because… oh Primus." She shakes her head, burying her face in her hands.

"So what, now I have to- excuse mmeeeeehhhhhh," I yawn, covering my mouth with my hands. "Sorry, again; so what you're telling me is that I have to talk to him _again_, because what he told me last time doesn't make sense?"

"Yes! Abby, you won't understand something unless someone explains it. And look, I would _try_ to explain it to you, but first: I don't know if you'll understand; and second: I just think that that's all something that Optimus should be explaining."

"Ok, I get that but still… I don't know. I wouldn't want to disturb him, or appear stupid in front of only _the most powerful being on the planet_," I say, stressing on the last part of the sentence. "I mean come on; he already told me once… I don't know if I should really ask again. Wouldn't it be better to, you know… pretend I understand and leave a busy man be?" I offer, trying to work my way out of it.

Why am I even doing this, anyway? It's not like Arcee's _making_ me ask Optimus again. She said so herself, that I don't have to if I don't want to. "Ok, no, back up for a moment… why am I even explaining myself to you? You said once, I talked to him once. I don't have to ask him anything if I don't want to, so get off my case, will you," I snap, nearly _shouting_ at her. Ok, and now I was just being childish and plain rude.

Arcee flinches a little at my tone, obviously not expecting me to snap at her like that. "Arcee… I'm sorry… I didn't mean for it to come out like that. I'm not myself tonight. It's just-"

"-no, you're exactly yourself, and you _did_ mean for it to come out the way it did. I get that you have a hard time accepting offers of help, and think that you can handle everything on your own, and you don't need anyone's advice. I get that, ok; I really do. I was like that once, too. But I got over myself. I swallowed my overgrown pride and ego and accepted help. Because you are not in a good place right now. You're getting better, I can see that, and I'm glad; I really am," she tells me firmly and in annoyance, a subtle, hurt note in her voice. "But it's like every time I try talking to you, you try to reject everything I say to you. I try to help you and I try to make you feel safe and welcome here. But I can't keep talking to you if this is the way you're going to talk to me."

I realized then, what she was doing. She was not only giving it to me in spades, what I was doing wrong, and how much I was hiding behind some sort of barrier, but she was showing me in what a disgusting way I was doing it. She was absolutely right. Every time she came offering a helping hand, I rejected it in a very rude manner that pushed everyone around me away. My defensive attitude about all of this was pushing away everyone who wanted to help.

"I'm sorry… I don't know what came over me; I shouldn't have-" she starts, but I cut her off.

"No, you did the right thing; thank you. And I really am sorry for snapping at you like that – or snapping at you at all. I guess I'm just not very good at letting people help me. I'm just… I much more used to doing things on my own. Help was never something that was offered too often, and something I hardly ever accepted even when it was offered. I'm just not very good at letting others help me," I say, realizing only after the words are out of my mouth, that they were perfectly true.

"Well, in that case we'll have to help you out with that," she says softly. "Abby, it's ok to let others help you. And no, I didn't get this off the internet, it's from personal experience: you're strength isn't about how much you can do on your own, it's about whether or not you can admit that you aren't good at something, and letting others help you out. I don't want to see you like this; you can barely stand on your own." Just then, another wild yawn breaks free. I let myself redden in embarrassment, shooting her an apologetic look, to which she responds with a chuckle.

"So how about it?"

"I guess you're right: I can't figure any of this out on my own." Maybe it really was time to get over myself and ask when I didn't understand something. Problem was: I think this is one of those things that are easier sad that done. "I'll ask him tomorrow night. I have to wash him, anyway. But for now, can we just change the subject?" I ask.

"Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you about."

"Ask away," I say with a shrug.

"Well, I… _we_ were wondering… Ravage. Why are you protecting him? He's a Decepticon, but you still act like you're his friend. Why… why would you do that?"

I take a deep breath – it's more of a sigh, really – because I'm not sure how to respond to that. There are many reasons, most of which I can't name. It takes me a little while to conjure up a response. "I guess… I guess that when I look at him… I-I don't know. Maybe… I guess that when I look at him… I see myself," I say, getting a very confused look from Arcee.

"See… he's some sort of Decepticon spy killer thing, right? But then he's also just a cat – I guess. He's a cat, and like all cat's, he needs attention and love." I pause for a while, my eyes darting, as if I might find the right words somewhere around me. "My parents… And don't you _dare_ pity me but… my parents didn't pay all that much attention to me. So I guess maybe I can relate. I mean, how much love, exactly, do you think he got when he was with the Decepticons? Not much would be my guess, if they're as bad as you say," I tell her, then pause again, trying to think of what to say next. In my head, a million words bounce around, but when I try to speak them, nothing comes out – I have no words to tell her. I stay silent for a little, biting my lip in deep thought.

"I just… I look at him, and I can't help but see myself: lost and insecure, and wanting a little time and affection – again, don't you dare pity me. I befriended Sam, and that changed. I felt like I had someone to turn to at all times. I just… I think that maybe…" I trail off, searching for the right words, finding few to none. I guess I just wanted him to have the same thing. I should say that. Yes, it's good. But when I try, not sound comes out. The words were lost and forgotten before I can put them together. And now I couldn't find the right words to phrase what I was feeling. I'm _way_ out of my element here.

Finally, I remember, and manage to speak. "I guess I just wanted him to have the same," I get out at last; the sentence is instantly being followed by a loud yawn. I bury my face in my hands, groaning in irritation at the stupid yawn. Yeah, I hear you; I'm going! Just give Ravage some more time to run around, and then to bed! At last!

I don't turn to Arcee, but I can feel her eyes on me, intensely watch me. "What?" I ask her, but at last, it isn't snappy or rude. More like… curious.

"It's just…" she trails off, sighing. "You have a big heart, Abby. And as bad as this may sound: don't let your fears and insecurities take that away from you. You are the first human I know that has ever, not only _spared_ a Decepticon and took him in, but somehow found a way to care about something like that. In fact, I don't know anyone at all from a non-Decepticon faction, who has ever showed not just mercy, but kindness and compassion, and even a form of love to one of them. I don't get what potential you see in that thing, of why in the name of Cybertron a Decepticon reminded you of yourself, but somehow, he does. You did what none of us could and that… that's precious. Never lose that."

I smile, nodding lowly, and fighting back another yawn. "Thank you…" and the yawn comes through. Arcee laughs, shaking her head.

"Go; you look dead. We'll watch over him."

"Yeah, I _feel_ dead as well; thanks." But before I go, I turn around, asking her one last question.

"Hey… why did you offer to watch over Ravage for me?"

"Well… he might be a Decepticon, and on our hit list, but he's also a Cybercat. I don't even remember the last time I saw one. And also… what you said, about him not getting much love from the Decepticons… you're probably right. So I figure… might as well give him a chance. He _did_, after all, kind of save you and my sister. I'm thinking that him as a Cybercat might not be as bad as him as a Decepticon."

"Oh… that makes sense… thanks," I say with a smile. I turn around and leave, falling asleep on my feet.

**AN: Awww! She's so cute when she's rendered speckles – and when she's sleepy, of course, hehehe. Yeah, I'm king of evil for finding her funny when she's confused, but come on: sure I can't be the only one!**

"**It felt warm. It felt warm and true. It felt **_**safe**_**." Second chapter in a row to make me tear up! The fearless Decepticon girl if just so **_**fragile**_** and **_**breakable**_**! It's like she has this tiny little glass infant locked away inside her, wanting to see the world, but at the same time, she's terrified of her greatest dream. Poor girl.**

**Also; the Cassandra vs. Abby part was inspired by a wonderful song, which just so happens to share a name with my story! Beautiful Lie by 30 Seconds to Mars; listen to it, I dare you!**


	22. Chapter 21: boredom takes you places

**AN: So I'm back, yay!**

**Storylovers91: Thank you! I'm so happy that you love this story! Of all the stories I have, this is probably my favorite one.**

**And now a word for all of you: Please don't take this offensively, and I'm not one of those people who write only for the reviews, but every author reaches that point where the reviews – or lack thereof – really effect what they write and how much. I have, sadly reached that point. This is a really fun story to write, and I love writing it, but it doesn't make it easy. So when I post something, I'd really appreciate it if you left a thought about how I'm doing. If no one bothers to tell me if I'm doing well, or if there is something they want to see or something they think should be done differently to make the story better, than who am I writing it for?**

**I'm not going to do that thing where you don't post until you have a certain amount of reviews, because that's just not fair to _anyone_, but I _am_ going to ask you to leave a few thoughts at the end, if only to let me know whether or not I'm satisfying you with this.**

**Now with that out of my system, please enjoy:**

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"I've got all my fingers…" I mumble, the fork – yes, still a fork – moving between my fingers. After two weeks worth of daily practice, I was getting considerably better… Until I stab myself again. I hiss, shaking my hand and then bring my middle finger to my mouth. "Damn thing," I spit at the fork, hating it. A few days ago I _literally_ stabbed myself, making my finger bleed. I usually don't try to kill the table, but I was angry and not paying attention to the strength with which I was poking at space between my fingers and put my thumb on a fork.

This is going too slow! It's been two freaking weeks now! Why can't I be good at this?! I glare at the fork murderously before slamming it against the table. It clatters loudly against it, bouncing forward and onto the ground. After a long while of trying to fight it, I get up and pick it up off the floor. I really need to get more self-control. I slump back on the chair, clutching the stupid fork in my hand tightly.

Why can't I get better at the dumb knife game faster?! I don't remember something taking me this long to get good at! I'm making _some_ progress – as in, I can do it faster, and I don't poke myself as often – but it takes a ridiculous amount of time nonetheless.

I hear a chuckle behind me and can't resist spitting "_shut up_," at whoever it is.

"Ouch; that's not very nice." My jaw drops and I turn around instantly, apologizing.

"Oh Lord, I'm sorry, Epps; I didn't think it was you."

"Neh, it's ok. Just don't do it again," he warns, coming up to me. "Here, let me show you something." He brings on arms around, me, holding my hand in place on the table, and with the other grabs the knife next to my plate – still full of food that I can't bring myself to eat I mean really, I'm tired of eating the same thing over and over again. You'd think they'd have a restaurant here or something. I don't remember having something two day in a row unless I wanted to!

"I was in my first year of serving, and I got a little bored," Epps explains, tapping the spaces between my fingers, humming along to the knife song, and murmuring the words every now and then. "I got all my fingers, the blades go chop-chop-chop, and if I miss the spaces in between my fingers will come off." My eyes widen as the knife goes from finger and finger faster and faster and I begin to squirm as my eyes start struggling to follow it. Oh my God, I can't even watch people doing this on a video! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! Please don't let him hit my fingers!

"Ok, you showed off enough, now stop before the blade chop-chop-chops my fingers off!" I half-exclaim, half-whimper, getting a laugh from the solder and a stare from the rest of the dining room.

"-And if I miss the spaces them my hands will start to _bleed_." Epps stabs the table next to my hand and I squirm. He lets my go and I rocket out of my seat, jumping back away from the knife, my heart racing, and shaking my hand like a maniac, mumbling curses to myself. I flex my hand, examining it from every side.

"Oh my God! Ok, all fingers in place and not hurt." This gets a laugh from the entire cafeteria. "It's not funny!" I shout, half crying, half laughing at myself. "Stop laughing!" I complain, but I guess I can see why they would laugh at me. I have to admit it _is_ kind of a funny situation. I check my hand a few more times, before relaxing. If this is one of those things that you can't _watch_ with a straight face, always cringing and moving further and further away from whoever is doing it in anticipation of that they'll cut their fingers off, then trust me, having that done to you is about a hundred times worse… especially when you know what getting stabbed feels like.

I make an exasperated groan, suddenly really twitchy, and flex my hand some more, making sure I can feel every part of it.

"Hey! Spencer!" someone shouts. I turn around, pointing a finger to my chest and mouthing '_me?_' The man nods impatiently. "That monitor isn't gonna clean itself! I thought I asked you an hour ago!" he shouts across the cafeteria. I let the bright red tint color my face, caving my shoulders and shrinking into myself in humiliation.

"Sorry… going," I mumble under my breath, so softly that I barely heard it myself, and hurrying out of the dining room, face scarlet in embarrassment. Thanks a lot for shouting across the room; it's not like you could walk up to me and whisper it quietly in my ear, so no one would hear. That would have been _so_ much work.

Asshole.

.oOo.

"Abby?! What in the name of God are you doing up there?!" I stop what I'm doing, looking down at Lennox, standing on the ground with his hands in the air in shock. I almost give him an "are you kidding?" look before remembering that he's never really seen me do the work. People told him "Abby finished this and this and this," and that's how he knew, but he never actually supervised me or whatever.

It surprises me nonetheless; that he would ask me what I was doing, that is, seeing as he was the one who told me to clean this thing. All the other computers the tech people clean out on their own, making sure their precious babies stay nice and shiny and in tip-top shape. And people would have cleaned this giant, too, but then I came and since no one had to pay me, I had people knocking at my door more and more often now, demanding I do something because they didn't want to do it, or didn't have time, or simply wanted to have a little fun at my expense..

I usually ignored them all as they had their manly ego pushed up when I literally brought the coffee. The urge to flip everyone off and give them a piece of my mind in every language I know, grew stronger with every passing day. I do slip in the finger every now and then, but it never satisfies me, since no one ever sees it.

With a huff, I shake my head and look down, my undivided attention on the solder, whose jaw is on the floor. "Actually, from what I've heard over the past month-" _almost_ a month; twenty six days, to be precise (_what_? Yes, I have to keep track of how long I'm stuck in this place) "-I don't think I even wanna know anymore," he murmurs, just loud enough for me to here. "Doesn't mean I'm not gonna ask: What the hell are you doing up there?!" he demands, with his hands in the air.

"What do you mean what am I doing up here? You told me to clean the cinema-sized screen," I answer with a shrug. "Why do you need this oversized-desktop monstrosity anyway? It's like bigger than my entire body!" I complain, motioning to the huge monitor that apparently they use for Skypeing big people in high places, like… like… um… I got nothing. Who could possibly be so important that they'd need a screen for them, the size of the one on Time Square?

"It takes longer than it takes to wash Optimus' alt. mode, _just_ to get the dust off! No, I'm definitely _not_ complaining; I'm simply observing a fact," I say quickly, knowing how awfully lame the cover-up sounded, but I let it go. "And don't worry; I was just over thinking my excuse to not wash him tonight. Yeah, I know you said that I have to do it, that's why I was thinking over it. And it's not like I have much more excuses left in my arsenal; I've used them all up. Darn me; I knew I should have dragged it out. Now I see why mom said to always save money. Oh I should have listened to her," I mutter. "So yes, I _do_ know he needs to be cleaned tonight, and he _will_ be," I promise.

"Weren't you given a harness to get up there two weeks back?"

"Yeah, but I wanted more than anything to shove the thing down the dude's throat before he got half way into explaining how to put it on. I swear, another ice age will hit before I put it on and hook it up and figure out through trial and error what _not_ to touch. This is much faster," I say, pointing a finger at the cable with my free hand.

I figured this way was the best when two weeks ago I climbed to the top the tall platform thing where I stood when I was getting officially introduced, and got up on the railing to reach some lose cables. They aren't using those most of the time, so they're almost always dead. They use these to power the huge screen – so right now, they have no use. So I grabbed the longest one I could reach, made a loop to put my foot in, holding on to both parts of the cable, and wrapped what's left – which is quite a portion – around my other foot. So in the end I was left balancing on a length of cable with two feet, and holding onto the loop with my hand to keep it in place, and still had a free hand to clean with. Quite cleaver, if you ask me.

It was right after I finally got over my urge to feed the harness to the 'instructor'. The guy didn't even know how to use it properly himself! My way is much safer, faster, and a lot more efficient. Ok, maybe not safer, but it's still a lot better and any argument against that is invalid.

Apparently, Will hugely disagreed with my point of view – which, wasn't arguable, since it was the most _logical_ point of view there is – standing there with his hands in his hair, looking like I'm about to plummet to my death. What's all the fuss about? It's only like twenty five feet down and he's staring at me like I'm standing on the edge of a skyscraper!

"Ok you just… just stay there," he shouts up at me through his teeth in complete annoyance and disbelief, and walks away in frustration, calling the man who – if I remember his name correctly, that is – tried to tell me how to put that useless safety harness on. That, people, is not a safety harness; it's a death machine in a sheep's disguise! Or was that supposed to be a _wolf_ in a sheep's disguise? Whatever, you get the point: it's a waste of my time, which I can use on more important things, like sleeping for instance, since I feel like I'm not getting enough of it lately.

_Maybe that's because you aren't?!_ shouts a voice in the back of my head. I just tell it to shut up; the last thing I need is my conscience telling me what to do. I'm getting enough sleep, thank you very much. It's just that I increased my workload too fast, and my body was simply taking time adjusting.

_Oh yeah; for nearly two weeks now_. I only roll my eyes, ignoring my Voice Of Reason.

I do a few touch-ups on the screen, whipping away the last few damp droplets, and swing myself around to face the railing, the small bucket of water standing on the edge where I left it. I give a good swing, grabbing onto the railing and releasing the loop and my other foot, leaving the cord in my hand. I climb up onto the railing, grabbing a beam for unnecessary balance, and make my way carefully closer to the back of the huge monitor and hook it back up to the way I found it. And before someone asks, yes: I did ask if it was a live wire and exactly what it did, and made sure that if I touch it, the monitor isn't going to suddenly crash.

I jump down, my feet hitting the metal platform and the sound echoes. This brings an idea to my head: I climb back onto the railing, spreading my arms just as I hear Will's voice again. He runs back in; right behind… what's-his-face, who is carrying a helmet and a ladder. At the sight of me, both freeze, becoming deathly quiet. So quiet that from way up here, I could hear a pin drop across the conference room-hangar-place – you can't really hall it a room, but it isn't a hangar either so… what would you call it, again?

"I can't take it anymore," I say dramatically, struggling again the amused smile more than I have ever struggled against anything. Don't smile… don't you freaking _dare_ smile, missy! You'll ruin the whole thing! Slowly, I feel my face go from red to purple as I hold my breath against the laugh.

Sadly, though, despite my best affords, I burst out into chiming laughter, the sound echoing around the empty metal room with a ceiling so high, it seemed it would never come.

"Oh you _SO_ should have seen your faces!" I shout, almost wanting to topple over with laugher. Then I remember that that would be a terrible idea, seeing as I'm standing on a metal stick, over twenty feet above the ground, and I may stick the landing, but to keep from getting hurt too badly, it would take an awful lot of skill that Abby doesn't have. I could jump from here and walk away with a bad limp on both feet, and a few highly unpleasant bruises, but should Abby fall from here, she'd never walk anywhere ever again.

I collect myself and choose this moment to get down before I fall and have to let myself be paralyzed.

Will's face goes from terrified to furious in point two five seconds, but he waits with the shouting until my feet hit the solid metal of the platform. I can see myself being in for the scolding of my life – from a human, that is. I grab the bucket and the dry rag, the wet one hanging over the bucket's edge, and saunter down the stairs.

"So…" I say awkwardly as I approach the two men. "… I guess it wasn't as funny to you, was it?" I offer innocently. Will only face-palms.

"Abby…" he says, struggling to control himself. "…" He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. I wait for several minutes, rocking back and forth on my feet casually. The death glare he gives me glues my feet flap to the ground. I bite the inside of my cheek, waiting for him to say something – anything.

"… I don't know what to say to you," he says harshly. "You… you could have just killed yourself! When you're around the Bots, you freak out like someone is trying to run you over with a car, and when you're working on _anything_ other than them, it's like you are _trying_ to get yourself killed! What's the matter with you! Do you _have_ a death wish I need to know about?! Because if this is how you act all the time… I thought I was talking to an adult! Do you need a babysitter?! Can't you be responsible for once and act like the nineteen and a half year-old that you are? What are you, eight?!" I flinch away at his volume, taking a step back and lifting my hands in defense.

"Well I didn't want to waste time! Like I said, an ice age would hit before I got up there and-"

"-No, not that! I'm not even going to _mention_ that at all; but that… that stunt… I…" he cuts himself off, eyes darting from side to side as he tried to find the words for me.

I'll offer you some: stupid, irresponsible, ignorant, time-efficient, quick-thinking, self managing, and above and beyond bored.

"I just wanted a laugh," I try to explain.

"Well it _wasn't_ funny," he barks.

I cut him off before he can say – shout – anything else. "Lennox… I'm sorry. I didn't know you would get so angry."

"You pretended that you wanted to kill yourself – and if you didn't pretend, then you need a doctor this instant – because you wanted a _laugh_? That isn't funny, that's _twisted_." He buries his face in his hands, exhaling loudly, and I press my lips together, trying to figure out what he's thinking other than "oh my God I just want to kill this little brat myself". I come up with no reasonable answer, and just give up on it, instead focusing on what I will say to him once he's calmed down.

Then the full consequence of my boredom reaches me, and I shiver. Oh God… he'll kick me out now. I open my mouth to plead for an apology and vow to never do that again, but Will beats me there, saying something that makes my mouth fall open.

"You know what; it's my fault… partly." He takes a deep breath and groans, and I gape at him, my mouth still on the floor. "Abby… have you ever heard of the Golden Mean?"

"The what?" I ask, frowning at the phrase. What the heck is a Golden Mean?

"Never mind. Abby… when I told you that I can't have you slacking off- sorry I called you; you can go," he says, turning to the dude with the ladder, who is giving me a death stare. He leaves, and Will continues. "Sorry; when I said I can't have you slacking off, I meant for you to do your job, not to work yourself to death. You went from working at a good pace to working twice or thrice as hard, and I don't mean to sound like Ratchet, but it's bad for you. You might be getting the right amount of sleep – I hope you are, at least – but you aren't resting at all."

"So am I in trouble again?" I ask. Not to sound mean, but I don't need to hear to story of my life before you get to the point. "I mean I did everything you told me and up until a five minus ago, I was staying out of trouble as well." Lennox shakes his head.

"You aren't in trouble; you're a girl who seems set on taking _everything_ I tell you the wrong way and making my life difficult; you're also a girl who's bored, and I guess that last part is somewhat my problem. You can thank Sarah for this," he tells me, reaching into his pocket with an exasperated sigh. "Thirty years and seven girlfriends, a wife and a daughter, and it still takes someone to tell me how to deal with a teenage girl," he murmurs to himself, holding something out to me.

When I look down, it confuses me even more. "Eh?"

"Well… here it goes: your hair has seen far better days, your nails are in a horrible condition, and you look awful in that uniform." He dictates all the obvious things that are wrong with me and I go red for the second time this evening. "And on top of that, we can't keep supplying you with even the basic necessities. It's signed to your name, and all the money on there is still intact. You need your own stuff and-" I cut him off with a shrill scream, throwing my hands up in the air, and jumping up and down like I just met Santa.

"Oh my God, oh my God, _oh my God, __**oh my God, **__**oh my God**_!" I scream, my voice getting higher and higher with every time I say "oh my God". I jump up and down, screaming and flailing my arms as what Lennox just said sinks in fully. I jump on him, continuing to jump like a hyperactive child. Lennox tries to pry me off him, squirming at the volume.

"Ok, get off me and stop screaming before I go back on my decision," Lennox threatens, somehow knowing that that is the only way to shut me up. I do, instantly stopping my jumping and get off him, stepping away and straightening up.

"I mean, thank you," I say, barely containing my excitement.

"I spoke to Sarah about this, needing a little of advice on this part, and she told me that judging by how you looked like every time she saw you… there is a flight to LA tomorrow morning. Get a good night's sleep, and I want to see you up bright and early tomorrow. If you miss the plane, you're staying here; no one's waiting, you got that?"

I hold my breath, my face quickly turning red.

Will is holding a credit card.

Will is telling me that he's sending me to LA to shop.

I'm going shopping.

I'm going shopping!

"Ok, I know that look," Will says. "I'm gonna go now; try not to deafen anyone." All I manage is a nod. Will leave the vast room and the moment he's out, I let out a hearty scream, my hands in the air again. I let it all out, repeating over and over again that "I'm going shopping!" I spin around like a love-struck teenager – which I guess I was because I hadn't been shopping for so long that I wanted to marry the biggest mall in the world and live in it right about now.

I grin, holding the credit card up to my ear, hearing it whimpering softly "use me; spend money with me." I was ready to spend thousands of dollars – in LA! – and I think that from now on, I was going to worship Lennox and Sarah and their foresight like they're deities.

"Hello Los Angeles," I say with a grin. Let's waste some money... a _lot_ of money!

Then I remember a promise that I made last night, and the train of thought I was on, did not just derail, but disappeared entirely, realization drawing on me. Yes, I'm going shopping, but there is someone I have to talk to before I go anywhere. I promised Arcee I'd ask about what I didn't get, and I had every intention to live up to that promise.

Somehow, I felt like I needed to show her that she could trust me just as much as she was trying to show me that I could trust her. So not living up to a promise was a red flag. Besides, I wasn't really used to giving my word and then going back on it. To me it always felt like breaking a promise was worse than lying about something.

Before long, I find myself at the mouth of the Hangar – yes, it's Hangar with a capital now, since it's shorter. I have to ask him about what he said. There were things I _needed_ to know. Arcee was right: I couldn't just leave it. I had to do this, if not for Arcee, then for me.

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**AN: yay! She's going shopping! The next several chapters are going to be a whole lot of fun, I can promise you. We'll be seeing a very new side of Cassandra (Abby); one that I really do hope you will like. I mean can you imagine? A shopping trip? To LA? The next three to five chapter will focus on that trip and on the growth of relationships of friendship and trust amongst her and the Bots.**

**I hope you all have a wonderful day/night, and I will see you all next chapter. Bye!**


	23. Chapter 22: the right path

**AN: guess who has another chapter for you! This chapter is also a nice and long one; yay!**

**Spirit Kiss****: close, but not quite. Sorry, the great leader will unfortunately have to stay behind on this one. This does have a reasonable reason, though. First, he's a Prime, and Prime is one heck of a busy man. Second, she's still untrusting and a fair bit scared of him. Not to worry, we will see that fear become even smaller in this chapter, and trust me, even without Optimus, you won't be disappointed.**

**Storylovers91****: Oh I'd love for you to come, but I'm afraid you don't have to proper clearance. I'm sorry :( But yes, it is very fun to write, especially the next few chapters. It's gonna be a lot of trouble-I-I-I mean **_**fun**_**; it's gonna be a lot of fun, I promise you.**

**And since I don't have much more to say, see you at the AN at the end; enjoy:**

Evening… setting sun… I don't even remember the last time I saw the sun set. I only even come out after sunset. Man that's unhealthy. I miss the sun; miss seeing it touch the horizon, miss watching it set the world on fire; I miss everything about it, now that I think about it. I miss feeling it warm on my skin and how it turns the sky orange and make the clouds around it turn into a wave of lava as it disappears.

I love the moon and stars more than anything – especially the stars, as much hurtful memories as they may bring – but to think how much I would miss the sun… Oh God, I can't believe how much I took it for granted. It was always there, and in the past month, I never gave it thought – never focused in that I was living in the night and the bright light of powerful lights surrounding the base.

I close my eyes, taking in the feeling of the warm rays on my face, taking a deep breath of pleasure. Didn't think I'd ever be in this situation, so glad to see the sun go. A small strand of sadness tugs at my heart as I realize that the sun will soon disappear, leaving me in the darkness again.

I don't want the silver light of the moon, or the bright starry canopy that the sky is at night; I want the fiery sky and the warmth of the sun. I don't want the beautiful, amazing, blazing sun, that brings life and light and beauty to the world, to go; not yet.

So since I had so little time with it, I decided I'd best take it all. With a calm breath, I step outside into the sun and its welcoming orange-red glow. I'm sure the few Autobots out here wouldn't mind me doing so. And if they did then… then I don't care. I've been living in the night for a month, so there is no way I'm giving up this little bit of beauty, which I had never considered. It was just always there.

I smile to myself. "Huh," I breathe quietly, "absence really does make the heart grow founder." That promise of mine can wait for a little. Optimus isn't going anywhere, but the sun only has a little time left. With my priorities temporarily altered, I walk around aimlessly, my eyes closed half the time, going anywhere at all, my arms swinging numbly at my sides.

Then I hear a noise I recognize and smile a little more. Not at the sound as much as at the fact that A) I'm not even surprised anymore, and B) I'm actually glad, rather than scared or unnerved. My heart swells with self-pride. Looks like I actually accomplished something over my time here: my eyes are closed and one of the Autobots is behind me and I'm not at all sacred. On the contrary, I'm actually… peaceful. It's a strange feeling that I hadn't felt in far too long for comfort. I liked this feeling, and needed it now more than ever.

I turn around, opening my eyes to see one of the triplets parked and transforming behind me. I mentally note how my arms don't come defensively up, crossing over my chest as they always have. The pride grows with that. I almost grin, refraining from doing so only because I'm in no mood to explain why I'm grinning in the first place. It's not like it would sound like much of an accomplishment to her anyway, so might as well spare us both. I can be proud of myself on my own.

"Hello," I say quietly, just loud along for the pale green femme to hear. "Care to join me on my walk?" I offer with a smile. The femme smiles, falling into step with me as I continue walking. One day I'll have to ask them how on Earth do they balance on one wheel, especially while moving so slow. But that is a conversation for another time.

"We haven't been properly introduced," she says, looking down at me. Yes, she's right. I've talked to her every now and then while washing her, but I don't even know her name. "I'm Moonracer."

"Abby," I say, reaching a hand across my body for her to shake, only to remember that she has no idea in the least about what why I'm reaching a hand at her. I ball my hand up awkwardly as she gives it a questioning look. "Forget it," I say, brushing it off. "So 'Moonracer' is it. Your armor color suits your name. It's really pretty," I comment. The pale gray-green is truly a very pretty color, and it does look like the moon.

She smiles, nodding her head. "Thank you. So how is your time here so far?"

"Well… where to start?" I ask, really having no idea. "It's ok, I suppose. I'm adapting to the… company… quicker than I would have thought, but I still feel like it's too slow – no offence," I say, referring to the 'company' – I really couldn't find a better word off the top of my head.

Moonracer only chuckles a little. "It's alright. It took me some adjusting to your planet as well. When I first came here, it was beyond me how everything can be so small and fragile. It took me several days to figure out just how much I had to limit my use of strength." She laughs nervously, and a knowing grin spreads across my face.

"You broke something, didn't you?"

"A few things. And it took some getting used to the alt. mode, too. It was rather… difficult to move around on a single wheel instead of two…" she trails off, motioning to my legs, "… legs."

"Ah-ha! So it wasn't easy at first!" I exclaim, pointing at her with a grin. This gets me a weird look. Instantly my arms are crossed over my chest and I mutter a muffled "sorry". She just laughs, waving it off. "It's just… every time I see one of you, I can't help but wonder how in the world do you manage to balance on a wheel like it's no big deal."

"I… I actually don't know, really. I guess it's like your Earth saying: 'it's like riding a bike'. Once I figured it out, it came naturally. I just knew what to do." I nod in understanding, relaxing at that she wasn't offended. "If you don't mind my asking: why are you out here so early? Is there something wrong?"

"What? Why would there be something wrong?"

"Well, you were just walking around like something might have upset you and I thought maybe something was bothering you," she explains, a worried expression on her face.

"Bothering? Gods no; just the opposite, actually. I just realized how long ago it was that I actually saw the sun, especially the setting sun. I had an epiphany. It was just something that was always there; I didn't think I'd miss it so much if it were gone. Oh God, thank goodness Optimus killed the Fallen. I don't know what I'd do if there was no more sun. I mean, not that I'd live to miss it for too long, but you get the point: I am _never_ staying inside for this long ever again!" I proclaim, stomping my foot to make a point.

"Hey, this is something that's been on my mind for a while: are you three the only femmes on Earth or the only femmes left at all? You don't have to answer if you don't want to, though," I add quickly, realizing that it might be a touchy subject.

… No, not 'might' be; it definitely is. Her entire planet was destroyed, and talking about the scarce few who survived can't be easy.

"No, it's ok; if you're here, than you might as well get to know your current company. No, there are a few others out there. They hadn't found their way here yet, but all we can do, for the moment, is hope. On Earth, though, yes, it's just me and my sisters. I have to admit that when I heard you'd be staying, I was actually really happy that there would be another girl here. There aren't too many women around, so a new face is always something the three of us look forward to."

"Ah, life with the boys; don't I know it. I feel sorry for you, girl. Argh, I can't _imagine_ having no other girls than two sisters to talk to. How do you take it?" I ask in wonder. Oh how I'd hate to be in her shoes.

"Believe me, sometimes I feel like shooting one of them – the mechs, I mean… although my sisters can be just as bad. They're all so boring!" she complains.

"Argh, tell me about it! In grade ten, we had a school trip to camp for four days, but you had to pay money to go. So of the four grade ten classes, me, along with maybe ten other girls went, and like fifty or something guys. It was both the best and the worst time of my life. Best because there were only the eleven of us, and we'd all gather in one room and stay up all night, and the worst, because we didn't even know each other all that well, and we had absolutely _no one_ to talk to," I huff, resting my hand on the back of my neck and staring up into the sky as I walk.

We both laugh as the memory spins in my head. Those were the good old days. Too bad so little of us went and too bad we were only there for three and a half days.

"But I think you would've loved it there," I say. "Trust me, you have no idea how much a single trip to a camp can teach you about humans – if it's a good camp, that is. You gotta be careful with that stuff; otherwise you'll end up with the worst experience of your entire life. Hey, speaking of life: did your planet really have no organic life on it? Not even plants?" I ask, suddenly curious.

"No; any organic life needs water to survive. Given the nature of your planet, it had little to no water at all. On top of that, it didn't have an atmosphere like your planet. Organic life wasn't possible on it."

"Ok, makes sense. So when you came here, it was the first time you saw something living that was organic?" I ask, my arms falling back to my sides and I swing them back and forth lazily.

"No; we've traveled to lots of different planets over the course of our history. We've encountered other species and planets across the galaxy which were like yours in that aspect. I myself have never been on any of those planets, but I've seen footage of those planets and their inhabitants."

"Oh my God, that's so cool! Wait but, if there were other planets out there, why did you choose to stay here? You could have gone anywhere," I say, curiosity eating at me. This is something completely new. I've never heard this from the Decepticons. Other planets with organic life; that's so exciting! I want to ask her so much about that: what they look like, what the planets' inhabitants look like, how are they the same as humans, how they are different. I want to know everything! But as I ask my question, a look of grieving crosses over Moonracer's features, and instantly, I know I asked the wrong question.

I go to apologize, telling her to not pay me any mind, but she speaks before I can open my mouth to get out a sound. "We've went to those planets. But some were not advanced enough to protect themselves against the death we brought with us, and others, once they heard of what was going on, they 'closed their doors' as you say. I wouldn't blame them for doing that; they knew how powerful the Decepticons were, and when we were looking for refuge, we failed to consider that they would follow us, and destroy any world where we stayed. They did what they had to, to protect themselves. And if it meant shutting us out and leaving us to die, they would do that."

"I'm sorry," I say under my breath, truly being sorry.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. If we didn't come here, the Decepticons may have gotten the Allspark, and your world would be lost. And if they hadn't, we'd leave this world, and the Fallen would have destroyed you all."

"In that case… thank you for sticking around. But still, I'm really sorry your planet is gone. It's terrible."

"Abby, I told you not to be sorry. Our planet was old, much older than your solar system, in fact. Too old, maybe," she says with a deep note of sorrow in her voice. It makes me want to cry; for her, for her sisters, for the Autobots and the Decepticons, and for Cybertron, which was probably breathtaking. "Maybe it's time came; maybe it's been around for too long."

"Still, if my planet was as old as yours – too old to exist anymore – I'd still not bare it to see it die. Because no matter how old it is, it's still my home."

"Abby, nothing is meant to exist forever."

"Maybe not…"

"… But it still doesn't make it any less painful to watch it disappear," she finishes my thought. If she were human, I know she'd be crying. "Optimus says that this is our home now. But he has to say it, because it's better than the alternative."

"Home is where the heart is," I say knowingly. This gets me an amused look.

Just then, I hear someone else roll up behind us and transform. "I thought you were supposed to be young and stupid before you're old and wise," I hear Arcee say. I snort at the, turning to her.

"Well you lot aren't the only ones who find things on the internet. And believe it or not, some of the things on there actually ring true."

"But sometimes you need to say something that no one will believe, but what you know they want to hear," she says, referring to Optimus saying that Earth is their new home.

"True, sometimes a beautiful little lie is better than the terrible truth but I, personally, would like to hear everything in black and white. It's kind of why I've always hated doctors and police: they always give you that 'you'll be ok' bullshit. I mean yeah, you just saw someone get killed, or been held hostage for ransom, but unless having nightmares for the rest of your life about that is normal, you are anything but ok. And now my questions ruined a perfectly good evening. What do you say we change the subject, eh?"

"Agreed; let's not talk about devastation and death; it's too early for that, and I, for one, want to enjoy the evening, not spend it all brooding over what can't be changed," Moonracer agrees. Yeah, let's talk about something more interesting. I, for one, want to know how those other planets compare to ours in technological advances. But Arcee beats me there, and actually, I'm not in the least upset, because her subject of choice is no worse.

"Yeah, she's right. So Abby, about that shopping trip I heard someone shouting about…?" I go red in the face. "Yeah, half the base heard you. So… what is this shopping trip?" I freeze and stare at her like she's lost her mind – which she clearly did – for at least three minute before recovering after they both wave their hands in front of my face.

"Y-you don't know what a shopping spree is?" I ask in shock, the _idea_ of this being too far beyond me for comprehension. "B-b-but _everyone_ knows what a shopping trip is," I mumble, stuttering over my words in utter disbelief.

"Well, we might know what it _is_; we might just be unfamiliar with the term," Moonracer says.

"Uh-hu, you better be," I state in shock. "A shopping spree is when you get a lot of money, and you go to a store, and you buy stuff: clothes, jewelry, makeup, and a lot of other awesome things. You by pretty dresses and shirts and purses and hats and stuff," I say, trying to explain what a shopping trip is. Thankfully, their faces light up in recognition.

"Oh! That's what it is!" Arcee exclaims. "Yes, it's called differently with us, but it's essentially the same thing. It's like getting new armor, right?"

"I-I suppose," I say. "It's really fun. Usually when I go, I don't even buy half the things I try on. I just try them on because they make me feel beautiful and rich and classy."

"Yes, it's _definitely_ the same thing. Do you ever go shopping, but when you get something, you never wear it again?" she asks knowingly. My face lights up.

"Yes! I buy something, and then I never touch it again, but it's _just_ for the sake of saying I bought it."

"I know the feeling. Especially when I was just… um… the Earth equivalent of a… a teenager, I think, I got myself all _sorts_ of armor and coloring, and I _needed_ it, even if I didn't! My creators always scolded me for wasting credits on 'useless' things. Clearly, neither of them had a normal Sparklinghood."

"I know! If it's nice, I need it even if I'm never gonna touch it again," I say, like it's the most obvious thing in the world – which it totally is, and anyone who doesn't find it obvious needs to see the doctor. "And my dad would get mad because I threw away half the things I bought having never worn them once! And it was like he _never_ understood the need for stuff. I need stuff; is that really such a hard concept to grasp?" I huff in frustration.

No one has ever understood my need for stuff. Well… I guess there was Alice, but I don't know if she counts. She only ever dragged me along because she felt like hearing a compliment, even if it was over something for her organic alt. form. To her, it was better than nothing.

Suddenly I feel very sorry for her. She was the only girl amongst her kind, the rest wiped out. She was a girl, and she needed to be told she was beautiful.

But later about that slut; I have more pressing matter to give my undivided attention to.

I turn to Moonracer, a pleading expression on her face. "Can we come, too?" she asks hopefully. My face once again breaks into a brilliant smile.

"Oh thank goodness! I was afraid you'd never ask! Yes, of course; I'd love that! Lennox said my flight to LA was 'bright and early tomorrow'… you don't happen to know what 'bright and early' means do you?"

"O-six-hundred hours," Arcee answers in military time. Wait… o-six-…

"Six in the morning?!" I cry out in horror. I'd never had to get up that early! "I'd stayed up that late, but I'd never gotten up that early!" I shout, my hands flying to my hair. The fact that I'd literally have to get up bright and early brings a memory up to the top of the priority list.

My eyes dart around, seeing the sun nearly down, the lights on, and the sunlight, along with its welcoming warmth and promise gone. Sadness overwhelms me at the realization – sadness yes… but not regret; I find myself not minding it one bit. Yes, the sun is gone, but I'd spent the time enjoying not only it, but the company as well. It felt so good and refreshing to laugh and smile and talk like everything was fine. It felt so good to forget everything, and let everything be alright.

Still… "I completely forgot…" I trail off, looking around for the Autobot leader.

"Well… that's my cue. Good night, Abby; I'm glad I caught up with you. See you tomorrow morning." I do a double-take, blinking a few times at how human she just sounded. '_Glad I caught up with you_'? I shake out of it, smiling at her, and waving once.

"Yup, see you later," I say. She wheels away, and I turn to Arcee.

"Hey, look, I know I promised, but can we reschedule? I have to get up early tomorrow and- yeah I'm stalling. What if I'm disturbing him?"

She only sighs. "Abby, this isn't some sort of bet or deal, where I'm forcing you. I'm giving you advice. It's your choice whether to follow it or not. You don't need to do this if you aren't ready."

"No I... I _do_ need to do it. I need clarification, and if I'm gonna stay here for any longer, I'm gonna have to learn to live with the fact that he's here. I don't… I don't want to be looking over my shoulder, Arcee. I…" I hesitate, wondering if I should say it. "I _want_ to do this. I want to know. But it's just…" I bite my lip, thinking over it before asking, "This is going to sound extremely childish but… can you walk me?"

She smile and nods, and we both head towards Optimus. He didn't look busy, so all I could do was assume I wasn't interrupting anything important. We stop some distance away, indicating that this is as far as she will go, because this is a conversation for only him and me, not her.

"Abby… don't be so hard on yourself."

I nod. "Good advice."

"See you."

"Yup," I agree, "Can't wait." I smile after her as she, too, transforms and drives away. And with that, I take a deep breath, and approach the metal giant. It's ok, it's alright. He has no reason whatsoever to hurt you. He's alright; he's not gonna hurt you. He has no reason to do anything to you.

"Good evening, Sir," I greet, alerting him to my presence, even though I'm sure he already knew. He looks down at me, and then slowly kneels to be closer to my level. "Good evening. And there is no need for formalities; please, call me Optimus."

"Yes Sir." I catch myself, wincing a little. "Sorry Sir." Damn it! "Sorry… _Optimus_." There, finally got it. It feels wrong somehow; to call him by his name, that is. Not because he's Optimus, but because he's Prime. He's a leader, higher than me in rank, and a greater species. I feel like I'm supposed to address him accordingly.

So to start the conversation, I say just that, explaining why it feels better to call him 'Sir'. It puts me at ease, somewhat. "But I will be working on that," I promise. If he wishes to be called by his name, so be it.

"I understand; but we are equal; there is no need to address me any more formally than you would Sam," he says. I nod in understanding, making a mental note to watch how I address him from now on. Not that I can guarantee anything of that sort though.

"I trust you are well? How is your adjustment going?"

"Well, actually. Lennox said I should take a break tonight… sort of. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I won't be washing any of you," I inform him.

"Yes, Lennox informed me. Is everything alright?"

"Yes, it is thank you; actually, he said I was going on a shopping trip tomorrow morning."

"Ah," he says, and I hear a small smile in his voice. "I see why Moonracer and Arcee were so excited this evening. I take it they are coming with you?"

"Yes, they are," I say, managing a small smile. Ok, this is going good; a sentence or two of small talk, and then to business. "They asked if they could come, and I simply couldn't say no."

"I'm glad to hear that. You seem to be too stressed as of late. I'm sorry if I pry but… are you quite sure you are well. You've been working very hard lately; is there something bothering you?" he asks, sounding truly concerned. I couldn't see how that can be anything but genuine. I can't help but believe that he really does care about that.

I mentally curse myself as I answer. "Actually, that's what I would like to speak with you about. It's about… what you said last time. If you don't mind, I have some questions."

"I will answer as best I can," he assures me, giving me the go-for. I take a deep breath, and start.

"My parents – namely my dad- always told me that no one ever does anything unless they have something in it for themselves. If you don't get something out of it, you don't do it. I've seen proof of this all my life, because it's true: people don't wake up one day, deciding to spontaneously do something nice for someone else. Because that's how life works: even the most selfless of people are selfish to a degree. I've seen it, and I can believe it. But what you said… no offence, Optimus, Sir, but I have never in all my life seen proof to that in _anyone_! Believe me, I've met my share of people – you might not believe me, given my age, but I have. I've seen that even people who donate to charities have something to get out of that. They _always_ both _want_, and _get_ something in return; it's _right_. But then you said that you do it just because, and no one does anything just because. So… why did you stay behind to help us? Why was it just because… Sir?" I can't help but add; mainly because that little speech was awfully disrespectful and improper. I bite my lip, wincing at all I just said. Oh man… why am I such an idiot?

There was a long silence; he clearly didn't expect the question to be that. Heck, even I didn't expect the question to come out like that. But people didn't do things for no reason. There was always more to it, even if you didn't see it. There was always a hidden motive, no matter how small it may be. Most of the time it all came down to money and/or power. In this case, I was leaning towards power. But even that didn't add up with the visible evidence.

"It is not right so much as it is very common, Abby. In most cases, especially when power is involved, that is the case; but not always. Some things are done simply out of the willingness to help."

"But Sir- I mean _Optimus_, humans… w-we tried to kick you and your people off the planet and leave you at the Decepticons' mercy. And still you stay. Why do you do that, Sir?" _Damn it_.

"Would you believe me if I said I forgave you? You are a young species; there is too much in life that you have yet to understand. I cannot blame you for trying to protect yourselves. I'm sure you must understand, given your age. If I'm correct, this is the age at which most believe they know best, is it not? You defy your elders, believing you are grown up, do you not." I go red, but nod. Yeah, this is about the age where we think we know it all. And then we grow up and realize we know jack-shit about anything.

A smile crosses my face. "You have to be young and stupid before you're old and wise," I say, remembering what Arcee said as I look up to face him, and see that I guessed correctly.

"Yes, exactly," Optimus says, nodding. And I swear I don't imagine it when I see a ghost of a smile cross his lips.

"And you are, for some reason, willing to be that one adult who says "no, you do not know what's best"?"

"No, it's not for me to tell you what is best. This is your world, and your lives; you do what you believe is best for you. The best we can do is warn you. We've made all the mistakes you have yet to make, and all I wish is to prevent your world from suffering the same fate as mine. But the final choice is behind you and you alone."

"So you want to… not so much tell us, as much as just give us the options, and let us choose where to go?"

"Yes; all we can do is offer, but it's up to the human race to chose to take the offer or not."

"Funny… Arcee said something similar to me."

"She was right; you always have a choice in which course to proceed."

"Maybe we have it, but what if some of us just don't have the chance to take it," I say numbly, staring past him into the distance. Maybe some of us aren't given the option over which life to lead. "And then some of us just aren't smart enough to take the right path." Some of us just don't know any better than to take the wrong way and end up in some deep shit.

"But is that not what life is for? Learning from your mistakes? Is that not what choice is about? To let you make decisions based on the outcomes of which you will then make your final one?"

I smile a little – look who's a philosopher. But he's right: we are given different paths to choose from, so we can make the mistakes and do all the wrong things. Otherwise we'll never learn to stop stepping on the same rakes over and over again – or something like that; it's a Russian saying, so I have no idea how it translates.

"So what, you're just gonna sit here and wait until we learn to walk in a straight line, so to speak… Sir?" I can't help but add, and then flinch inwardly at how awful that sounded. "Sorry," I get out barely in the hearing range.

"No, we will help you learn. We've made many mistakes in our day, some avoidable, some lethal, and some mandatory. Some mistakes are necessary for lessons to be learned. But that doesn't mean you have to learn on your own."

"But… why? What's in it for you to help us?" Then I look up and the just barely concealed look of confusion on his face almost makes me laugh. "Wait, on second thought, you don't have to answer that, Sir." Darn it. "I don't make sense to you, do I? I confuse you," I sate obviously. "Please don't try to say you understand me," I say.

Optimus sighs a little, seemingly relaxing. "It does unsettle me that you find it so hard to believe that something can be done out of kindness, and not out of a secondary agenda. But I assure you that we look for nothing but to help you."

"Why?"

"Because you deserve it." And in that moment, I want nothing more than to agree with him. It becomes my greatest desire to believe him and every word he said tonight because every bit is true.

"Tell me this: I am aware of your distrust towards us, yet you still came here tonight. Why did you do that?"

And with the tone of his voice, my first and only impulse is to answer. Because I know that by answering his question, somehow I'll answer my own. "Because I wanted to know why you chose to be kind to us after what we've done. I wanted to know why you are everything that I never expected anyone, even humans, to be," I say slowly, thoughtfully, staring off into the distance. "Maybe I didn't want to be uncertain of everything I said and did. Maybe I didn't want to look over my shoulder in distrust anymore. Maybe I wanted to believe you. Maybe… maybe a part of me wanted to feel safe." I make eye-contact with him then, seeing the sea-blue glow illuminating the darkness around us. So bright, in fact, that it turns my skin a soft, light tint of blue.

"And now you can be," he says. Once again, tears fill my eyes. I hate him. I hate him and I hate that he can do this to me. The Decepticons never made me cry. They've tried; oh have they ever tried. But their words and their blows never had any effect on me – not as much as they would have hoped.

But a single word from this cruel creature that is the Prime, and I'm in tears. And not because I am hurt, but because I want to have what he says I can. Somewhere deep inside, I don't want to stay awake all night; tossing and turning in the fear that someone will come. Somewhere inside me, a small part of me longs for the security that he says I can have. He makes me cry not because he hurts me, but because what he says is true.

Because what he says is _real_.

And it's that _real_ that I need right now; that promise that something in my fake life is _not_ fake.

And that's why he's cruel: because he tells me I can have what I can never reach. I can't be safe, not with who I am and not with what I've done. And I'm not talking about being with the Decepticons; I mean _Abby_. She is my only way to survive this, and if I keep her, then I have to give something up in return. If she is to be safe, than I will have to give up my freedom in return; because I can't have both.

And for the first time in my entire pathetic little life, I choose someone else over myself.

I chose Abby because she's worth it; she's worth it all.

I smile a little at him, reaching a hand out. "Maybe we both need to be asking questions. Maybe we both need to understand each other. Maybe we both need to feel safe."

"Maybe," he agrees and reaches his hand out to me, stilling it inches from mine.

I close my eyes and press my hand to his. The touch promises warmth; it promises trust; it promises truth; it promises something real and undeniable.

And for the first time in all my life, I feel safe; safe from the Decepticons, safe from the world, and safe from myself. Truly, honestly, one hundred percent safe.

**AN: *sniff* they grow up so fast… *sniff*. My little Cassandra, I'm so proud of you. I told you she wasn't going to be depressed and boring anymore; I told you! I trip to LA with three other girls, can you imagine that? Oh this is gonna be lodes of fun! Don't worry; I'm going to make the fun last for a while, because I'm stretching out the trip to several chapters, so it isn't all over in one chapter.**

**So I will see you all very soon, and as for now, please review, and have a wonderful day/night! See you!**


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